


Before I Met You

by dnawhite76, Prubbs



Category: DCU (Comics), Robin (Comics), Super Sons (Comics), Superman (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Boss/Employee Relationship, Coming Out, Fake Marriage, M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Alternating, Slow Burn, flirting with keychains, idiot boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-07-08 20:28:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 63,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19875610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dnawhite76/pseuds/dnawhite76, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prubbs/pseuds/Prubbs
Summary: Under the threat of his impending deportation, Damian informs his bosses that he is engaged to be married to his assistant, Jon, and they have nothing to worry about. The only issue is that he didn't tell Jon first.The Proposal AU nobody wanted. Welcome to the Summer of Super.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> _“When I say, ‘I love you,’ it’s not because I want you or because I can’t have you. It has nothing to do with me._  
>  I love what you are, what you do, how you try. I’ve seen your kindness and your strength. I’ve seen the best and the worst of you. And I understand with perfect clarity exactly what you are. You are one hell of a person.” - **Rebecca Rand Kirshner**

It was a day like any other. He would wake up, go to work, come home. The same as the day before and the one before that. But today felt different. He spent his time tying his tie as his father had taught him. He smiled briefly at his reflection, his mother's voice in his head telling him how handsome he looked. He touched his chest over his heart before turning away, pressing at the emotion. It was just another day. 

He walked through the office, his eyes on his phone. Out of the corner of his eye he could see everyone suddenly focused on the work in front of them. Their eyes glued to the reports on their screens, to avoid his wrath. He pushed open his office door. Jon was standing next to his desk with his coffee. He looked ruffled and like Damian had caught him doing something he wasn't supposed to be doing. 

“Rough morning?” he asked when he caught a whiff of coffee as Jon moved passed him toward the door. 

“Uh,” Jon uttered. “No?” As he settled behind his desk, Damian looked him up and down. Jon adjusted his jacket before clearing his throat. “The meeting with Kord is at one. Fox was wondering if you could stop by today. Your lawyer called again. And did you add a meeting to the schedule on Saturday?” 

“Push Kord back to two. I did. Did you have something to do this weekend?” 

“It's my grandmother's birthday,” Jon mumbled. He looked like he was going to say something more but decided against it with a small shake of his head. 

“Tell Fox I'll come down during lunch.” Jon's face went blank. He knew that he hated it when he rescheduled meetings for their lunch break.

“Right,” Jon mumbled as he stepped out to answer his phone when it started ringing. Damian skimmed the latest reports. 

“That was Rex's office he's ready for you now?" Jon frowned down at his portfolio and looked back up at him coming up empty, "We have a meeting with Rex?” 

“We do. Are you coming?” Jon looked up and jumped to follow him as they walked across the floor to Rex's office in the opposite corner. He ignored the people scrambling to look busy as he passed. He glanced back at Jon's regretful face when he passed someone in a stained shirt. Damian smirked to himself. Jon _was_ having a rough day. 

“Don't say anything.” Jon nodded as Damian pushed open the door. 

Rex smiled as he shifted a stack of papers on his desk and greeted him with a simple, “Damian.”

“How was your weekend?” Damian asked as he looked at the picture of Rex's family on the wall. 

“It was fine. I met up with some friends from school.” He saw Rex look to Jon. Everyone used Jon as a buffer. He was the first assistant that had lasted more than a month. He'd learned quickly, and had taken a large amount of work off Damian's plate. He was also the only person in the office that didn’t look away from him as soon as he walked by. He heard around the office that people called Jon the ' _Demon Whisperer_ '. 

He stepped between them, drawing Rex's attention back to him. “Ask me how my weekend was.” 

“How was-” 

“My weekend was great. I spent it in the lab with JJ.” He saw Rex go pale. Damian knew then that the misreporting was not an accident. He had given the man the benefit of the doubt that he had missed the errors. “You will resign by the end of the week.” 

“No I-” 

“Do you know how much money you cost the company? How much more we would have lost if JJ hadn't caught the error when he did. Resign or I'll document your negligence.” Rex's mouth shut with a snap. Damian offered him a placating smile and turned to the door. 

Jon followed him out. He looked over to him briefly. He knew Jon would keep an eye on Rex for him. Rex had never been the most level headed person. He doubted that he would take his termination well, but he hoped he would take the offer. 

“D,” Jon whispered when they reached the corner of the floor. He stopped and turned. Rex's door bounced off the wall as he slammed out of his office. 

“You bastard!” Rex's voice echoed throughout the now silent floor. Everyone's attention shot to the trio. “You can't fire me.” 

“I can. I will.” 

“You- you think you can just walk around here terrorizing everyone? Everyone _hates_ you. Hate working with you. Hate having to consult with you for anything.” He kept his expression blank as Rex raged, coming closer with every word. “But they like working with me. You're threatened by me. You've been trying to get rid of me for years, because you know I can do your job better than you.” 

Damian scoffed. “Jon," he turned to him, his eyes wide as he watched the outburst. "How many times have you had to submit late paperwork for Rex?” Jon made a face that told him he'd rather not have any input. Damian raised an eyebrow. Jon looked up as if trying to count it out in his head. “This month.” 

“Four times.” 

“How many times did you follow up with him?” 

“Every day, when I got in and before I left.” 

“Twice a day _my_ assistant is spending his time to do your job. That is four reports in only two weeks. I could check Jon's emails to see how many he's sent to you in the last three years, but I think you should go back to your office and start packing. Or would you like me to talk about your safety reports? Or your project's payroll?” Rex looked like he was going to throw a punch, but instead his hand relaxed. 

“Jon, have security notified Rex is to be out of the office by lunch.” 

“Yes sir,” Jon replied. 

Damian walked back to his office without looking at the staff on the floor. Thankfully Jon stopped at his desk giving Damian a moment alone. He took a shaky breath. He had no illusions that people liked him. He was strict, and expected things to be done on time and correctly, but he'd never had it thrown in his face. He'd never been standing in front of a group of people and been able to feel their silent agreement. He let out a slow breath and let go of the sour feeling. He had work to do. 

“Mr. Drake would like to see you,” Jon said after a quick knock, offering a brief smile to calm the scene they just left. 

He nodded. “Come get me in 10 minutes.” 

-

Damian pushed into the office as Brown stepped to intercept him. She cursed under her breath when he smirked at her. Todd was sitting on Drake's desk laughing about something. He was beginning to wonder if Todd ever used his office. He didn't think he'd ever seen him in it. They both turned to look at him. Drake pulled a folder out from under his partner's leg with a grunt and a sharp look. 

“Busy morning for you already,” Todd commented. “Rex didn't take the news as well as you had hoped.” 

“He did not,” he agreed. He looked to Drake. They couldn't have called him up here for that. He could see Todd calling him for gossip, but not Drake, the so-called brains behind the operation. Whoever said that had clearly never spoken to Todd for longer than five minutes. He had an uncanny ability to take the most complicated technical aspect and simplify it for the layman. During his interview Damian had talked about his latest project in school and Todd had nodded and turned his last year of school into one succinct sentence. He'd frozen before agreeing. Todd had grinned and Drake had offered him the job. 

“Your lawyer called us. You haven't been returning any of his calls,” Drake told him. He frowned down at the folder on his desk. 

“I have been preoccupied with the launch.” 

“You have until the end of the month,” Todd blurted. Drake elbowed him and hissed something, but he couldn't hear what over the pounding of his heart in his ears. 

“What?” 

Drake tapped the folder. “You left the country. They are going to deny your visa-"

“Which expires at the end of the month,” Todd finished needlessly. 

“But- the warehouse. I had-”

“We understand why you left, but they've made their decision.”

Damian stood in front of his bosses at a complete loss. He had lived here since he was 16, it was the only place he'd ever called home. He'd lived in more places in his first 5 years than most people lived in their life. His parents had met while his father was backpacking through Europe. They'd gone their separate ways and months later he had been born in a hospital outside Khadim. When he was four his mother ran into his father again while they were visiting her mother in Tibet. She had always said it was destiny that brought him back to them. He didn't know if he believed that, but his father had joined them in their travels after that. They'd never settled down, never stayed any one place for long. He might be a citizen, but he had no family, no friends, no life back in Uzbekistan. He'd only lived there for the first year of his life. 

“If there was anyway you could stay…” 

“D?” Jon's voice interrupted. 

“We're in a meeting,” Todd said standing and stepping away from the desk, from Drake.

“Yes. I know, but Fox is calling. She is asking to talk to you, Damian. I told her you were otherwise engaged, but she is insisting-” Jon's words sunk in. He looked at Jon leaning in the doorway. The idea hit him and he mouthed for Jon to come in. Jon frowned at him. He frowned back and looked pointedly at the space next to him. 

“Tell her that he'll call her back,” Drake said watching Jon with a frown as he stepped in reluctantly and Damian turned back to the pair. 

“I'm getting married,” he gushed. He touched Jon's elbow. “ _We're_ getting married.” Surprise filled both of their faces and Jon tensed under his hand. 

“He's your secretary,” Todd said. 

He saw Jon's face scrunch in distaste and redden before he corrected his boss's boss with a quiet, “Assistant.”

“ _Executive_ Assistant,” Damian clarified. “You've never fallen for someone you worked with? Spending long hours, late nights together. Things happen.” Todd looked down to Drake, who hadn't looked away from the pair in front of him. Todd said something under his breath and Drake glanced up at him. They had a silent conversation like he'd seen them have almost every department head meeting. 

“Make it legal. Okay?” Todd finally said.

“And congratulations you two,” Drake added. 

“Thank you, sir,” Jon croaked. His manners breaking through the confusion. 

Damian put his hand on Jon's back pushing him toward the door. Jon was quiet until they were alone in the elevator. He let out a pained noise and pushed the button for their floor before putting his head against the wall. Damian watched him from the corner while scrolling through his emails. They reached their floor and the doors opened. Jon jammed the close button. He hit the lobby and turned on Damian. “We're getting married?” he finally demanded, but there wasn't any 'umph' behind it. 

“They're going to deport me,” he offered. 

“So we're getting married?” Jon repeated like he was trying to wrap his head around that sentence existing in his world. 

“It's the only way that I can stay.” 

Jon's eyes met his. “We're getting married.” 

\---

He was having a rough morning. 

Jon usually had no trouble getting up before his alarm but the night before had been Aya’s twenty first birthday and Niti insisted that he stay out for at least an hour. But of course that hour and turned to two, and then three, and before he knew how it had happened-- he was jolting awake at a quarter after eight and rushing out the door. And it only got worse from there. He'd almost gotten killed by a bike messenger on his way to Damian’s favorite coffee shop only to find that it had closed down- like so many things in Gotham tended to do. So he was forced to seek out a shop that had cups he could pull off as the other. Then he finally stumbled into work right on time and running straight into the closing elevator door and his coffee exploded all over his favorite shirt. 

It had taken longer than ideal to convince Peter to switch shirts with him, promising a slew of things he could hardly afford before he finally budged up and handed it over. And he had barely got it on before Damian walked into the office. 

But none of that was anything compared to the bomb that Damian had just dropped to the CEO of their company.

He looked at himself in the bathroom mirror, water dripping off the blurred tip of his nose in the reflection. He wiped off his face and put his glasses back on, dread filling him when he didn't wake up in bed, hangover free, from a horrible dream. 

He should have called in. Not once in two years had he missed a day of work, and today was the first day that he regretted it. As much as everyone around the office hated him, Jon liked working for Damian. He had hired Jon on as his assistant straight out of his college without an internship and had been running him ragged ever since. He had a high expectation of things, and he was a hard ass- but Jon had learned so much from him in such a short time that it was hard to be bothered by it. But he had always been kind to Jon. Told him he was a great assistant. So great that he was about to marry his boss so that he could stay in the country.

He pushed out of the small single restroom and back into the random coffee shop that they wandered into when he'd stopped nervous pacing down the street and declared he was going to be sick. Damian was sitting, cool as a cucumber, scribbling something into Jon's notebook as he nodded to whoever he was on the phone with. Jon blinked at him, watching the easy smile that he threw to the waitress when she dropped off two mugs and wondered if he had ever smiled at Jon. He was sure that he had, because who doesn't smile. But he couldn't remember it. Damian was about to be his husband and Jon wasn't sure he'd ever even smiled at him. 

Stiff legged, he took careful steps over to the table and sank into the chair that was across from him, staring openly as his boss as he nodded again. “Right of course, thank you.” and he hung up, turning his focus to the coffee in front of him. “I got you peppermint tea," Damian told him in way of greeting like their entire relationship hadn't been changed. “Good for nausea.” 

He took a hasty drink and panted out a breath of fire. “Ooh wuz ‘at?” he asked fanning his burning tongue. 

“My lawyer," he said simply. “He directed me to a website that contains common questions that immigration office looks for when they look into green card marriages.” He pushed the notebook over to Jon and started to dress his beverage. 

Jon pulled out his phone right away and dived into the website, Damian leaving him the silence to breeze through it like he always did when he gave Jon a new project. He read through the questions. The personal ones and the very personal ones. It went over the check ins and the home visit policy and finally stopped at the penalties if they were found out that none of it was real. “I could go to jail," he told him. “If they figure out this is a setup then you'll be deported and I'll-” 

“They won't find out.”

Jon blinked. “How do you know that?” he demanded feeling the panic clenched at his chest again.

“Because we have _time_ , Jon.” He assured him. “My visa expires in a month. That is plenty of time to stage everything. We can move your things into my apartment, we'll go get rings, have a quick ceremony and make flash cards about each other. Both our families are non-existent-"

Jon cut in. “I have a family.” 

Damian made a face. “You do?” Jon nodded numbly. “You are always working," he said looking confused "and you don't talk about them.” 

Jon chose not to bring up that he had mentioned going to his grandmother's birthday just that morning since he hadn't technically gotten it out. “They live in Smallville. My Dad runs a family farm and my mom is a journalist. Lois Lane?” Damian blinked in surprise recognition and Jon continued. “My family, at least, is a problem. I talk to them every week. I haven't mentioned dating anyone in three years.” 

“Well, start now,” he told him like it was that easy. “Today.”

“Damian.” Jon sighed running a hand down his face. “This is insane, you know that right? I mean I don't want you to get deported- but do you even like guys? Isn't there anyone else you can ask?”

Damian raised an eyebrow at him. “I'm gay," he told him in such a way that you would have thought he had a rainbow on his face. “Aren't you?” 

He was. Not that that was the point. Jon felt his face turning red. “I don't think I can do this," he muttered starting to feel uncomfortably hot. 

“You can,” Damian told him. “And when you do, you can have Rex's job.” Jon felt eyes widened and the color completely left him. “Unless you’d rather stay my assistant," he uttered but Jon quickly shook his head and got his first small smile from his soon to be husband. “Great. Now get me Fox,” he told him tapping Jon's phone as he went back to his coffee.

-

The next morning started the same as any other day. Jon was up before his alarm and in the new coffee shop right as the morning rush started. The receptionist waved to him as he stepped into the elevator and he straightened his glasses on the way up. He was just starting to think that maybe he had dreamed all of yesterday when he stopped at his desk to drop off his bag and found a small blue velvet box sitting on his keyboard. He set down the coffee before he could drop it and grabbed it, sinking into his chair for the small bit of privacy that his cubicle provided. He opened the box, biting on his bottom lip when he saw the stunning onyx ring with three small rubies in a small stripe down the front of the band looking back at him. 

Okay. He took a hard breath. He could do this. He knew that there would be a ring involved at some point, he had just assumed it would be later. He took it out of the box as someone walked by, hiding it as he waved and then before he could freak out too much, slipped it on. 

Jon could hear the quiet washing over the office and he knew that Damian had just walked through the door. Forgetting the ring, he jumped up and met him at the office door with his coffee, holding the door with his left hand. Damian focused on it for just a moment before he met Jon's eye and slipped inside. “You got my package.”

“I did,” Jon agreed a little stiffer than he normally was. 

“Do you like it?” 

And he looked so oddy hopeful that he offered Damian a smile, if a bit forced. “It’s very…” expensive, dark, _noticeable_ , “Fits perfectly.” He settled for. 

Damian nodded. “I'm glad you chose to wear it without me having to ask. There is a lot of show to fit into this month and I believe that we need to be more openly… affectionate towards each other in public. Show that our feelings are genuine.” 

“Right.” He sighed and squinched up all his nerve to hold the blush down. He moved over to the desk that Damian had just sat down in and handed him his coffee, walking around it. He had planned to hug him, but he thought that might be too forced so instead he leaned against the desk next to Damian’s arm. For some reason, this felt more intimate than the hug. He felt his face turning pink, but pushed through it and pulled out his planner. “We have a busy day.” He started trying hard to ignore the glint of the rubies that sparkled up at him as he turned the page. 

Damian looked up. He'd never had anyone in his space like this before. People had always been uneasy when he was around, even when he was a child. In college, he'd been younger than his classmates, the know-it-all kid who sat in the front row. By the time he'd graduated he'd gotten used to being the odd man out, and that hadn't changed much when he'd taken over for Drake when he stepped out of the day to day operations. 

He listened to Jon's voice as he went over the schedule but he couldn't focus. His eyes kept drifting. Had Jon always been this tall? He was sure he would have noticed. His computer chimed with a message as Jon's phone went off. 

“Shit,” Jon hissed pushing off the desk. He looked to the email. He forwarded it to Todd when he was done and reached for his phone. “I have JJ for you,” Jon's voice came from the phone before he could pick it up. The phone chimed once and he answered it. 

The phone call didn't last long. He walked out and looked to Jon who was typing something on his computer. “I'm going down to the lab,” he told him. “I don't know how long I'll be.”

“I pushed your morning meetings. I'm working on the rest.” Jon didn't look up. He picked up his phone and with a smile greeted what was probably someone else's assistant on the other end. 

JJ looked up from the specs on their latest project. He shoved them across the work table. “I have never wanted to murder someone before.” Hours later he was scribbling ideas as JJ rambled and paced. The noise reminded him of his first roommate in school. He was a theater major and constantly practiced his lines. JJ went quiet. Damian looked up as a veggie wrap was placed in his hand. 

“Eat,” Jon said nodding at his hand. 

“You should work down here more often,” JJ mumbled through the bite of his burger. “Can I get an assistant? I think I need one.” 

“You can buy your own food.” Jon set a coffee next to him along with a stack of reports. He took a bite of his wrap and picked up the report on top. “Are these today's?” He hadn't realized he'd been down here that long. 

Jon nodded as he handed JJ a cup. “There isn't anything pressing. Other than this of course.” JJ looked up in awe at Jon. Damian frowned watching Jon laugh and wave off the fawning scientist. He looked back down at the report when Jon glanced over. “I can run through them if you want.” 

“No, that's okay.” 

“Wallace couldn't reschedule. He said he needed your approval to move forward. I think he's just tired of you pushing him back. I'll send you my notes from the meeting and I'll make sure he's adjusted the density like you told him to last time,” Jon added when Damian raised his finger while trying to finish his bite. 

“I see why you're marrying him.” 

“Huh?” he said less than intelligently. JJ had gone back to his pacing. 

“If I were you I'd snatch up someone who brought me food and wasn't afraid of me too. Plus he's hot. Or at least that's what all the ladies say when he's done making his weekly rounds.” JJ's voice went high as he recited what his coworkers had said. 

“Right,” he agreed. They were quiet for a few seconds before Damian brought up a possible solution and they started running through the possibilities. 

-

“Hey, D?” he glanced up from the blueprint spread out and practically illegible from all of their modifications. Jon stood in the doorway. “I've sent everything over to you. We can do _this_ tomorrow.” Jon shifted the bag on his shoulder. He looked over to JJ who was passed out in front of his computer as it ran a simulation. 

“Five minutes. Grab my bag for me.” He kicked JJ's chair and the man jumped up with a yelp. “Stop sleeping on the clock. Is that done yet?” 

Jon looked uncomfortable when he got back with his bag. 

“Go home," he told JJ, who had fallen to the ground when the simulation finished and they'd solved the problem, and joined Jon, who handed over his bag. 

The building was quiet when they reached the lobby. The night security guard waved as he hit the release when they walked out. Damian felt nervous like he never had before on the ride up to his apartment. He'd never had anyone over before and he was about to have someone living with him. Jon seemed to be as nervous as he was. He fiddled with the zipper on his bag while watching the numbers. 

“Huh,” Jon mumbled when the elevator opened and Damian stepped out. 

“What?” he asked. 

“I don't know. I was expecting you to live in the penthouse.” He unlocked his door and set his keys in the bowl by the door. His bag went on the couch as they walked through the living room. Jon looked around. 

“It's… clean,” Jon commented. It was empty was what he was too nice to say. He'd been tempted after watching too many home improvement shows to hire a decorator, but he didn't see the point. He was barely home. 

“You can bring over whatever you would like,” he offered. 

“I'm going to look around,” he nodded and went back for his bag. He had his laptop set up and was sorting the pages from his bag when Jon's voice broke in. “Why are all of your cabinets empty? Do you really live here?”

“Yes,” he snapped. “I have silverware. And I have dishes.” 

“You have one bowl and one plate. I didn't even know you could buy one plate. What do you do if you have someone over, or it's dirty?” 

“I don't and I wash it,” Damian could feel himself getting defensive. Jon must have seen that because his teasing smile dimmed. 

“Which one is your-- _our_ room?” Jon asked pointing to the hallway. 

“The one on the right.” He got up following Jon. He watched from the doorway as Jon stepped up to the glass wall overlooking the Bay. “The penthouse didn't have this view.” 

Jon turned and looked around the room. He knew it didn't match the rest of the rooms, with the exception of his bookshelves his apartment was bare, but his bedroom held the mementos he'd picked up over the years. 

“Are these your parents?” Jon asked. He was holding the framed photo booth strip that sat on his bedside table. He nodded. “You look happy,” Jon said quietly and put the frame back down. 

“What did your parents say last night?” Damian asked changing the topic. Jon's eyes flicked up to him before dropping down. 

“I didn't tell them.” He frowned and Jon shook his head. “I know.” 

“Do it now.” 

Jon slumped onto the couch and held out his phone in front of him after selecting his mom's contact. Damian sat down against the opposite arm. Jon looked over to him. 

_“Jon!”_

“Hey Ma.”

_“I thought you'd forgotten me.”_

“I got caught up at work,” he replied. “Oh. I was wondering if I could bring someone to Grandma's party.” 

_“Are you finally bringing a girl home? I thought that the Demon was making you work.”_

“Hah. The meeting got canceled.” Jon's eyes flicked to him and back. 

_“Martha will be so happy. Do you want to talk to your dad?”_

“No, it's late. I'll see him on Friday.”

_“Get some sleep baby. You look exhausted. Tell your sweetheart we're excited to meet her.”_

“Bye Ma! Love you.” 

Jon set his phone on the coffee table and looked over to him. 

“Your parents don't know you're gay.” 

Jon shook his head. “It's not exactly something I want to tell them over the phone and I don't get to go home very often.” 

“Right. Because of the Demon.” He pushed to his feet. 

“Damian,” Jon pleaded. 

“I'm going to take a shower.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again and welcome back to the Summer of Super! This is the time of year were DNA and I get a little crazy about everyone's favorite super sons and try to find a thousand different ways to hurt them and put them back together again. Jon and Damian are some of our favorite characters to write, and while this is not the last story to come out of the summer of super, it is the only one we have finished so far. 
> 
> This fic is named after the song [First Day of MY Life](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xUBYzpCNQ1I) by Bright Eyes. If you gaven't heard that song, please click the link and enjoy. Or if you've heard it a thousand times, check out this awesome [cover](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hdj2X22jI7Y) by Jesse Daniel Smith and enjoy that instead. 
> 
> We had an absolute blast writing this fic, and it really hits me in the feels. It started out as something fun and silly and them became this much deeper thing that it kind of hard to explain. Whatever it ends up being to you, we hope that you enjoy it! 
> 
> If you have story requests, questions or just want to say hello-- follow DNA and I on twitter at [@PBrubbs](https://twitter.com/PBrubbs) and [@Dnawhite51](https://twitter.com/Dnawhite51) and see the process of our day to day writing frustrations. 
> 
> -Prubbs and DNA
> 
> P.S. If you love our Jon/Dami and just cannot wait until next week, you are in luck. This is the second year we are celebrating the Summer of Super, and you can find our other super sons fic, [ The Rest of My Days](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15695988) already completed by following the link.


	2. Chapter 2

Jon woke up on the couch alone, knowing full well that it was not where he was supposed to be. But he had laid in bed next to Damian for thirty minutes before he drifted off and Jon's panic attack was in full swing. He hadn't been able to think of anything to say after he had gotten out of shower and already found Damian laying in bed, his back turned to him. He had never called Damian the Demon before. He thought that the nickname was mean and the people that called him that just didn't know him well enough. But he had felt proud when he heard some of the girls at the office call him  _ the Demon Whisperer _ and in his smugness he'd bragged to his parents and it stuck. But Jon didn't know how to tell him that. So he just got into bed behind him and stared at the ceiling until his heart tried to beat out of his chest. 

He had been fine until Damian rolled over, wrapping himself around Jon unconsciously like he had been made to cuddle people. And when he was asleep he looked so small… 

So Jon slept on the couch because Damian didn't have a guest room. And he woke up when the sun came up and glared into his barely closed eyes, insuring that today would be a very long one. He was going through the pantry, already fully dressed when Damian came out of the bedroom wrapped in a towel and blinked at him. “What are you doing?” he asked. 

Jon had to force his eyes off of his chest to answer him. “Making breakfast," he told him. And closed the pantry. “Or trying to make breakfast. You have no food.” But then he looked back at Damian confused. “Didn’t you shower last night?”

“Yes," he said plainly, like it was the most normal thing in the world to take two showers before work. “I don’t keep many groceries," Damian told him and turned back into his bedroom.

“How do you eat?” Jon called after him. 

“I order out.” 

Jon added grocery shopping to his mental tally of things he’d have to do that day and checked his watch. His heart flipped when he saw seven thirty staring back at him. He would have to rush to get to the coffee shop before Damian… was he supposed to leave without Damian? He walked the wide space between the kitchen and the small hallway that lead to the bedroom and hesitated in the doorway. This was stupid. He felt like when he was a little kid who had a bad dream, standing outside his parents door wondering how mad they would be if he woke them up. He raised his hand to knock on the door frame before he felt stupid and dropped it to the side and proceeded to panic for lack of things to do with them. He pulled his glasses off of his face and dirtied them by pretending to clean them with the inside of his tie. “I’m heading to the office, we have an early meeting with Fox and JJ to try and clear up that manufacturing issue.” He slipped his glasses back on and straightened them, “Are you…” he trailed off when Damian came back into focus. 

The girls at the office always watched Damian walk away. No matter how much fear he inspired, it could not dull the plain fact that he was attractive. Jon knew that. He had thought about it more than once when he had just been hired for the intern position, but over the years of working with Damian he had just kind of stopped thinking about it-- that was until he was standing in his boxer-briefs in front of him. He was wider than Jon thought, he had always assumed that it was his suits adding a little extra padding. But it was very clear to him now that the aesthetic was entirely Damian. 

Jon felt his face turning red. Damian however seemed completely unaffected by Jon seeing him next to naked. “Am I?” He asked. 

Jon blinked, “I’m sorry, what?”

Damian tutted at him, “You were asking me if I was something,” he replied opening his closet and stepping in, releasing Jon from the spell of his nakedness. 

“Hungry," Jon squeaked. “Are you hungry?”

“No,” he sighed. “I’ll meet you at the office.” Clearly being dismissed, Jon scampered away. 

He got Damian a scone anyway and left a sticky in front of it telling him that he was holding his coffee ransom until he ate it. He disappeared into the conference room to set up for the meeting and conference call. He had just finished laying out the reports for them when Damian pushed open the door looking grumpy but holding the empty scone wrapper. Jon bit back a smile and pointed to the paper cup at the edge of the table. Damian picked it up and Jon went back to straightening his papers and setting up the speaker phone. 

Damian was watching him when he straightened back up after hiding all of the plugs. “What?” he asked, his hand automatically going to his hair. He knew that his curls had a mind of their own and this morning they had been particularly difficult to tame. 

Damian pressed his lips together, for the first time since all of this started looking almost bashful. “You are very… efficient,” he murmured into his coffee, saved from a follow up question by JJ walking in. 

\---

Damian did some of his best thinking in the shower. The sound of the water, the feel of it on his skin - there wasn't anything else, the rest of the world faded away and all that was left were his thoughts. He hadn't ever really considered that it might be odd that he showered at night to let go of the workday, file away those issues, and relax before bed and again in the morning to get his mind in order and ready for the day. He'd hesitated when he'd stepped into the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror and shook his head. He couldn't change his routine now, he'd been living the same way for years. Plus Jon hadn't seemed to actually mind. It was a curiosity. Jon went about his own morning and headed in before him. 

It wasn't until he got to work and saw the scone on his desk that he realized Jon had gone in early to pick up his coffee. The coffee that wasn't where it belonged. He ate the scone as he walked down to the conference room. A pair of interns leapt apart when they saw him walking toward them. He knew his irritation showed on his face. He shoved the last of the scone in his mouth as the elevator door shut. 

He felt awkward as he offered up the compliment even more so when Jon looked up at him, surprise on his face. Jon tilted his head in question, but before he could say anything JJ pushed into the room.

“Look what I found on my desk today.” JJ waved the cup of coffee in front of Damian's face. It matched Damian's and his eyes flicked to Jon, but Jon had gone back to double checking the signal on the laptop. 

“Didn't want you falling asleep on the job again,” he grumbled and took his seat. 

“Tim's in a pissy mood today. Avoid him if you can,” Tam announced as she walked in. “Now let's see how much Rex fucked us over.” JJ laughed and slid into his seat. 

-

Jon stopped in his doorway after the rest of the floor had cleared. It wasn't rare that they stayed later than the others. He looked up from his response to Drake. 

“Do you need me for anything? I was going to run by the store on my way… home.” Jon made a face, like he wasn't sure how he felt calling Damian's apartment ‘home’. 

“I should be able to manage. Here.” He handed over one of his credit cards. “Use this.” Jon held the card out away from him. He looked like he was going to refuse. “Don't-” he was cut off by his phone ringing. “Use the card. Please.” Jon tucked the card into his bag eyes studying Damian before heading out. Damian watched him leave as he listened to Brown's reprimand. 

-

He pushed open the door and was greeted by the smell of stir-fry and music he'd heard Jon listening to before when he thought he was alone in one of the file rooms. He followed the scent into the kitchen dropping his bag on his way. Jon was stirring the vegetables in a wok that he hadn't owned that morning. 

“You didn't have to cook,” he offered after watching Jon sway to the music while he sung softly to himself. Jon jumped, broccoli flying into the air as he brandished the spoon at Damian. 

“Jeez.” Jon took a few shaky breaths and shut off the music. “What did you say?” 

“You didn't have to cook.” 

Jon smiled and looked sheepish. “I got bored waiting for you to get home.” He turned back to the stove. “It'll be twenty minutes or so before it's ready.” Damian grabbed the rogue broccoli from the floor, tossed it in the trash can, and headed for his room. 

He changed into a pair of lounge pants and after a moment's consideration pulled on a long sleeve shirt. He ran a hand through his hair on his way back out to the kitchen. He sat down at the table and looked around. There were random utensils on the counter. He could see a bunch of bananas hanging on a hook next to the fridge. There were towels hanging off the oven door, a knife block sitting on the counter. A toaster. 

“Did you buy all of this?” he asked.

“The food. I picked up some things from my place. I used the car service, I hope that's okay.” Jon glanced over at him. 

He nodded. “You should move the rest of your belongings over.” 

Jon didn't respond, but poked at the chicken breast in a skillet next to the wok. “You're right,” Jon finally muttered, but didn't look at him. “I'll call some movers tomorrow.” 

After a few minutes Jon turned with two bowls. He placed one in front of Damian and sat down with his. They ate in silence, Jon picking at his food for a few minutes. He focused on the meal in front of him and let Jon be. 

-

Jon looked more comfortable as he moved around the apartment while getting ready for bed. Damian watched him walk in and out of the bedroom. Jon asked him if he wanted to shower first, but Damian waved him on while reading the latest update from Wallace. Jon hung in the doorway for a few seconds after showering. He looked up, still typing on his laptop. Jon offered him a smile and a good night. 

“Good night,” he offered.

He yawned and scrawled another solution in the margin. He flipped the page. His thumb brushed against the rest of the pages he had left. He rubbed his eyes before returning to the text. 

“Damian?” Jon called. His voice was quiet. Damian leaned back to look over the arm of the couch. “It's three in the morning.” Jon walked closer and Damian glanced down at the clock on his laptop where it was propped on the coffee table. He hadn't noticed the time pass. “What are you doing?” 

“Finishing the reports for the morning.” He was trying to get caught up from his day in the lab and get ahead for the weekend. Jon pushed at his knees until he lowered them to the floor. He watched Jon settle next to him while wiping at his eyes. Jon pulled the next report into his lap. Jon read, yawn cracking his jaw every few minutes. Every few pages Jon leaned more and more against him. Damian wasn't surprised when he felt Jon's head drop against his shoulder. The pages in his hands dropping to his lap. He pulled the pages free and put them back on the stack on the table. Jon slumped head resting in his lap while he shifted on the couch. 

He kept reading, but every few words his eyes dropped to Jon's face. He looked younger in his sleep, happier. He finished the last page and grabbed the packet Jon had been working on. He was a few pages in before Jon's notes popped up in the margin. The first few were reminders of things that Damian had addressed earlier in the project.  _ ‘Damian said…’ _ There were a few that were application ideas. Even half asleep some of the things he'd written were better than the people working on the project. He should be doing more than he was. He looked down at Jon and set the report back on the table. 

“Let's go to bed,” he whispered pulling Jon up off the couch. Jon yawned, eyes barely open while he followed Damian into the bedroom. He helped Jon under the covers. He brushed a stray curl off of his forehead. Jon hummed a small smile on his lips. He pulled his hand away and went to shower. 

-

Damian stared at his clock. The red numbers reading 7:23am were mocking him. It had been almost five before he'd fallen asleep. Jon set a cup of coffee on the bedside table. He looked up at him. He was fully dressed and smiling too brightly for first thing in the morning. He pulled the comforter over his head. Jon laughed. “You have a meeting at 8:30. Drink the coffee. I'll have another one for you at the office. Breakfast is on the table.” 

“Stop making food for me,” he grumbled, pushing the covers off. 

“What?”

He walked into the bathroom. Jon followed after him. “Stop making me food. I don't need you to take care of me.” 

“I know that. But I'm already making food for myself. It's not a problem.” He looked at Jon's reflection in the mirror. His eyes were focused on him, on his chest. He covered the script over his heart and Jon's eyes darted up to his in the mirror. 

“Shouldn't you be going?” he asked. 

“Oh. Uh, yeah.”

“Oh and Jon?” Jon turned back to him. “I'll get my own coffee.” 

“What?” He walked to the door and gripped the edge. Jon backed out of the room. 

“I'll see you at the office.” He shut the door. 

-

He walked in and the secretary at the front picked up her phone. Her eyes met his and the smile she perpetually wore froze in place. “ _ Code Black _ ,” he heard as he passed her. “ _ Yes I'm sure.” _ He felt her eyes follow him to the elevator. 

Everyone was on alert when the doors to his floor opened. He walked across the floor to his office. Jon was at his own desk. He glanced up and scrambled to his feet when he passed him. 

“Miss Queen is in conference room two.” Jon's eyes flicked down his chest and back. He pulled off his jacket and pushed up his sleeves. Jon took a step back as Damian walked to his doorway and looked across the cubicles. 

“I expect updates on all projects and completed weekly reports to me before the end of the day.” A murmur of disbelief washed through the room. He turned back to Jon. “I don't need you for this, make sure everyone has what they need to get me those reports.”

The rest of his day consisted of him checking on everyone and emailing Jon things he needed him to get done. It was nearly seven when he made it back to his office. Jon was listening to music at his desk, the rest of the floor empty. He had hoped that he might have gone home already. A cup was held out to him as he walked by Jon's desk, but Jon was still focused on the screen in front of him. He took it and walked into his office. He shut the door and settled at his desk. 

“Damian?” He jerked awake. The sky outside his window was dark and there was drool smeared across the page in front of him. 

“What is it?” he asked his voice cracking. 

“Maybe you should go home.” 

“I need to finish reviewing these.” 

Jon set a single sheet in front of him. He read it and looked up at Jon. 

“Rex really was shit at his job. Now come on. The car is waiting downstairs.”

-

Jon was halfway through eating the omelet Damian had made for him when he dropped his fork. “I didn't check us in for our flight.”

“I did.” Damian took a bite of his. It wasn't the best thing he'd made but the surprised smile that Jon had greeted him with in the morning was worth the hour earlier that he'd woken up. It was his way of apologizing for the day before. “I knew you were busy yesterday.” Jon's face scrunched in confusion as he went back to his plate. 

They talked through where Jon's things would go after breakfast. He could feel Jon hesitating over something, but let it go. Silence stretched and Jon finally cracked. “Do you have a TV?” 

“I have a theater.” 

Jon stared at him, clearly not expecting that answer. “What.”

Damian pushed off the couch and leaned on the bookshelf until it swung open, revealing the media room and its plush chairs and screen. 

“You have a secret door to a secret theater?” 

“It was here when I moved in. It was originally a library according to the realtor.” 

“Secret door, secret room. Empty walls, empty cabinets. You're secretly a spy, aren't you?” 

“Yes, Jonathan,” he deadpanned. “You have discovered my  _ secret _ .” Jon laughed and walked into the room. 

“Are you going to have to kill me now?” Jon teased. Damian blinked.  _ Did he just flirt with me?  _ Jon's face flushed up to his ears as he stared at the shelf in front of him. There weren't many cases on the shelf, it only housed his father's favorite films, but it didn't appear that Jon was taking in any of the titles. 

Damian's alarm chiming broke the awkward air between them. “We should go.” 

Jon breathed “Thank God,” and rushed past him. 

-

The woman at the security checkpoint looked at his ID then his face and back at the ID. Jon was standing just inside the gate waiting. She looked up at him again and said, “Enjoy Kansas.” 

“Thank you,” he said taking his ticket and ID back. They went through security, Jon waiting again for him. He felt a headache forming. They found their gate and he took a seat, plugging his phone in as he went through his emails. Jon came back with a cup of coffee. 

“You were getting that wrinkle between your eyes,” Jon offered at Damian's surprised look. 

He focused on the screen in front of him and not the wall of windows overlooking the runways. Jon slid headphones in after a few minutes. He had finished his coffee and found a restroom when their plane arrived. Jon looked past him, out the window. His eyes kept drifting over as the jet slowly pulled in. He looked away and stood when the attendant made the announcement. 

Jon asked if he could have the window seat and Damian nodded, glad to take the aisle. He strapped into his seat and grabbed one of the safety manuals to occupy the time while the rest of the plane filled. The flight attendants started their spiel. Jon had tugged a bud out of his ear and was listening to them speak. Damian focused on the seat in front of him. The pilot came over the intercom and he closed his eyes resting his head against the seat. The roar of the engines drowned out the beat of his heart. The plane jolted and his hand dropped down on Jon's. 

“D?” 

“Talk,” he whispered. “Please.” He cracked an eye and looked over at Jon, squeezing his hand. He hated flying. His first flight that he remembered had been to Nepal, and the pilot had nearly missed the runway. He'd seen mountains too closely. Ever since he had been scared. His mother had told him stories, kept his mind busy as they flew. He'd flown maybe three times since she died, and he had been terrified each time. 

Jon hadn't been expecting this. Damian was usually the epitome of cool and collected. For him to be afraid of planes- there was a slight jolt and he jumped again, the woman next to him on the aisle seat across from them shooting a glare his way. Jon shot her a look that told her to mind her business before he put an arm around Damian and pulled him into his side. He stiffened, “What are you doing?” he asked almost curtly in his embarrassment. 

“Being distracting?” Jon asked instead of answering and cleared his throat. “B-besides, my family is very… touchy.” 

“Touchy?"

“Touchy,” Jon repeated with a nod. “They touch each other all the time. You can't enter a room without getting a kiss on the cheek or a pat on the back. A pinch. A squeeze. They… just touch." He shrugged. "Like, all the time.” 

“Oh.” Damian sounded distracted, but not by the sight shaking in the plane. “I don't do that. Touch people,” he explained when Jon raised my eyebrow. 

“Ever?” he asked amused. 

“Not really?” Damian said like he’d never really thought about it before. 

Jon bit the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning at him. “Well you have exactly four hours to get used to it before all of Smallville descends upon you," he warned him pinching his cheek with the hand that was over his shoulder. 

Damian smacked his hand away and grumbled for him to stop. Then he let himself tuck into his shoulder to hide from the turbulence.

-

There weren’t any flights that went directly into Smallville. It was too small to have an airport of it’s own so you had to fly into Wichita and take a small commuter plane into Garden City before you could drive the hour and a half to Jon’s hometown. If he had thought that the initial flight was bad it was nothing compared to the commuter. The seats were smaller and he was holding onto Jon’s hand for dear life for the entire hour they were in the air. He was a little green when they made it to the airport and had to excuse himself to go to the bathroom while Jon waited in line to get a rental. They just handed him the keys to the truck when he reappeared looking less green but still pale. “You alright?” he asked. Damian nodded but didn’t speak looking like he was unsure of what would come out if he opened his mouth. 

Jon tucked their bags into the bed of the truck and climbed in next to Damian who looked happy to be back on the ground instead of in the sky. “This car is ridiculous," he said looking around the giant truck. 

Jon grinned at him. “You’ll be happy we have it," he told him. “Just wait till we get to Smallville.” 

The drive was mostly quiet, Damian spent the time going through emails on his phone and occasionally taking calls from executives who needed his sign off. Jon settled back flipping through the radio stations until he eventually found the oldies station and let Elvis croon through the cab. Damian got off the phone, just as the sign welcoming them to Smallville waved them in. His Adam's apple bobbled and Jon gave him a moment before he asked, “Are you nervous?” 

“No,” he said too quickly. 

Jon bit back his smile. “My parents are nice, I promise. My dad might be a little weird…” he took a breath and the bubble of panic he had been pushing down hit his chest all at once. “This wasn't how I wanted to tell them I’m gay. I don’t think it will be a big thing. My mom is really liberal but my dad has been in Smallville his whole life and it’s a small town…” 

Damian didn’t say anything. He just wordlessly reached over and took Jon’s hand as he signaled the turn onto the farm he grew up on. 

-

Damian was proud that he hadn't thrown up. It had been close, but a few seconds of staring at the water in the bowl, finally on ground, finally breathing again he settled. 

It was Jon's turn to look unsettled. Most of the drive was quiet except for the oldies crooning in the background. He worked until he saw a sign welcoming them to Smallville. He missed the population under the sign, but there were only 4 digits. He was sure of that. He studied the buildings that they passed as they drove through the town center. Jon's fingers tightened when they turned off onto a small road, barely wide enough for the truck they were in. 

Jon was focused on the road in front of him as he drove. He spoke and didn't sound like he was making excuses, but was warning him. “It's a small town…” Jon trailed off. He was used to people judging him. Always new, always different. But this was Jon's family, there was no way to prepare for the judgment of your own family. He looked down at Jon's hand resting between them and the tense line of his body. The Kent's were ‘touchy’ which meant Jon was. He thought back to the night on the couch. Jon's ease and comfort in falling asleep against him. He reached over and took Jon’s hand in his. He could try. 

“Jon!” An older woman, too old to be Jon's mom came running from the front porch when they parked. She wrapped her arms around Jon and pulled him in, he folded to hug her back as a laugh was startled out of him. 

“I missed you,” Jon uttered. 

He pushed out of his seat when she replied. “Then you should come home more often.” Her attention moved to Damian when he stepped out. 

“Gran, this is my… my…”

“It's nice to meet you,” he interrupted offering his hand and his best conference room smile. There were a few tense seconds as she stared at him and his hand hung uselessly between them. 

“What are you going to do with that? Come here,” she pushed his hand away and tugged him in for a hug. He looked over her head to Jon who was staring just as surprised as he was. “So handsome. No wonder Jon's been hiding you away.” She pat his cheek and smiled at him. 

“Th-thank you,” he mumbled. He straightened, his mother had raised him better than that. “Ma'am.” 

“Oh call me Martha, sweetheart.” She pinched his arm before turning to her grandson. “Your father is over at Pete's. He won't be back until dinner,” she offered to Jon. “Lois!” Martha bellowed. Her voice carrying over the rustle of the corn and the sound of the chickens. 

“Scared the dickens out of me. What is- Jon!” Lois dropped the towel she'd drying her hands on and jumped off the porch. Jon met her halfway. 

“C'mon. She doesn't bite.” He looked down at Martha and she was smiling at him. She tugged him forward. He wanted to sink back into the uncomfortable seat and drive back to Gotham. He didn't care how long it took he was not getting back on that plane. Martha didn't let go and it was either let her pull him forward or fight with her. He moved. 

“Ma. This is Damian.” Jon met his eyes looking worried for the first time. Lois looked at him, her eyes cold for a moment. She looked to her son, seeking an answer to why he was there. “My fiancé.” 

The whisper was like a vacuum as all the sound around them sucked out and it was just those two words. Lois and Martha both turned to him. He took a half step back before he could stop himself. Lois’ face was a mixture of emotions before she settled on a stiff smile. 

“Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule,” she said and offered her hand. 

He took it. She knew who he was. And was clearly not a fan. Martha's warm smile had cooled as well. They didn't have a problem with Jon being gay. They had a problem with him. “I'll get our bags,” he offered.

“I can help,” Jon chimed in. He could tell that Lois wanted to ask Jon questions, ones that she couldn't ask with him around. 

“Go ahead. I'll catch up.” Jon was studying him when he looked up. “Go,” he urged quietly tapping his wrist. 

He took his time pulling their bags from the truck. His eyes drifted to Lois whispering intensely at her son as they walked up to the farmhouse. Once they had disappeared inside he focused on straightening the straps of Jon's bag and not the pressure building in his head. He pulled their bags up the sidewalk. He took a deep breath before pushing the door open. 

“-didn't tell you.” Jon said, his voice like steel. He let the door shut loudly behind him and Jon stepped out of the kitchen. “My room is up here,” Jon offered. He took his bag and started up the stairs. 

Once they had stepped through Jon set the bag down on the small bed and turned. “I'm sorry.” Damian shook his head, but Jon wasn't looking at him, he was studying his bag. “They don't understand why I work so much. They miss me and-”

“Jon,” Damian said and that drew the cobalt eyes up to him. “It's fine. I know that I'm-” he paused and swallowed. He shook his head and finished, “I'm used to it.” 

A knock interrupted Jon before he could say anything. Martha stood in the doorway, hand still lifted from the knock. “You boys must be hungry after that flight.” 

“Yes ma'am. Thank you,” he said taking the out she was giving him. 

“I told you to call me Martha,” she reprimanded. Her smile soft when he looked to her. He glanced back to Jon who was still standing at the foot of the bed. 

Jon had been counting on his mother to be the nice one. Of course he had known that she wasn’t a fan of Damian, but she was always supportive of Jon’s choices and her coldness had been harsher than he expected. But even still, she had taught him to be a kind man. He wanted to talk to Damian alone and tell him that people’s cruelty was not something that you were supposed to get used to, but he clearly didn’t want to hear it. He gave up and followed his Grandmother and fiancé out of the room and back down the hall. He took Damian’s hand when they made it back to the kitchen where his mother was checking on a roast. She was waving a towel in front of her face like she was trying to dry up her eyes before they came in. “Ah.” A wide and fake smile lit up her face as she saw them, “I hope you like roast," she said overly cheery to Damian.

“Ye-yes ma’am,” he babbled, squeezing Jon’s hand when he tried to tell his mother Damian was a vegetarian. “It smells amazing," he offered softly and a little of the crazy dropped out of her smile. 

“You boys wash up,” she told them. “The table’s already set and your Dad should be home any minute." She seemed worried as she said it and turned to look out the little window above the sink. Martha squeezed Damian’s shoulder and went to go talk to Lois as Jon pulled Damian towards the dining room. 

“You don’t eat meat," he hissed at Damian under his breath. 

Damian glared at the wall, avoiding his gaze. “I know that," he muttered. 

“What are you planning to do? Make yourself sick?” 

He did look at Jon then, meaning for it to be pointed but there was a loneliness there that he just couldn’t hide beneath annoyance. “I’ll deal with that when I have to. I just…” He shook his head and sighed. “I just want them to like me first.” 

The tension fell out of him instantly and Jon ran his hands down Damian’s arms. “They will,” he promised softly. “They just don’t know you yet.” Damian let out a humorless laughed and Jon gripped his hands, “I’m serious,” he told him. “I like you.” He leaned to the side to force Damian to look at him, a little red came over his face and Jon smiled softly. “And I know you better than most people, probably.” 

“You like me?” Damian asked rolling his eyes like that was absurd.

“Of course I like you,” Jon told him. “You are easily the smartest person I’ve ever met. You're funny, you like animals and you’re… well, you know,” he gestured to him knowing his face was red. “Kind of beautiful," he rushed out and cleared his throat. “Maybe I’m not ready to get married, but I would have said yes if you wanted to go out and get a drink sometime.”

Damian blinked at him looking like he wanted to say something but he chewed on his lip instead. "What?" Jon asked suddenly feeling very self conscious about what he'd just blurted out. 

"Nothing," he said too quickly and reconsidered. "I just feel like…" his face got serious like it did whenever he was trying to solve a problem. "I feel like I should kiss you right now."

If Jon hadn't been blushing, he was after that. "W-what? Why?" He asked, his throat feeling dry. 

"We are going to have to kiss sometime," Damian told him, all business as usual. "Do you want our first kiss to be in front of your family, or-"

Jon held up a hand to stop him. "No, you're right. But just…" He looked up. He could see straight into the kitchen from the dining room, and even if his mother and grandmother weren't watching right then, he wasn't sure he was ready for them to turn and see. "Over here," he told Damian, pulling him into the entryway where there was a wall between them and his family. "Okay." He turned so that he was fully facing Damian and Damian did the same. He looked unsure, like he didn't know how to start so Jon squeezed his hand and tugged it so he had to step a little closer. "You ready?" He asked under his breath. 

Damian swallowed, nodding and Jon slipped his hand onto Damian's jaw and leaned in before he freaked out about it. 

His heart jumped into his throat and he felt heat spill upwards from his stomach. He almost felt like he was falling, but then he felt Damian's arms wind around him, keeping him standing. His lips were salty from the peanuts on the plane and his tongue barely reached out to touch his bottom lip. It startled Jon enough to pull away, a little wide eyed with confusion and excitement, but he didn't get a moment to think about it. 

His dad was standing in the doorway, looking at him like he had just seen a ghost. His face was somehow both red and pale all at once and he looked from Jon to Damian like he didn't know who to blame. “Jon, what...who?” he asked when he could finally talk, his voice sounding like his throat was tied in a knot. 

Jon swallowed hard, his face was red and his mouth suddenly tasted sour. He dropped his hand from Damian's face and clutched it into a fist behind his back that was now straight as a board. But he had been unable to let go of Damian's shoulder, “Pa, this is my… Damian. Damian this is my father, Clark Kent.” 

“It’s nice to meet you, sir,” Damian told him but didn't move from his spot at Jon's side seeming to understand without Jon having to say that if he moved he wouldn't be able to stay standing up. 

Clark didn't say anything he just looked at them, his eyes focusing in on every part of them that was touching until Lois came out of the kitchen. 

“There you are," she sighed, clearly not seeing the tension all around her. “I was just about to send Jon to look for you. You better go wash up before dinner. You are covered in dirt.” She pushed at him and Jon's father unfroze, stiffly making his way to the little bathroom under the stairs. “Come sit down you two," Lois told them and they followed her to the table where Jon sank into his spot as his mom went back to the kitchen. 

“Jon.” Damian squeezed his hand but he didn't look up. He had never had a panic attack before but he was pretty sure this is what it felt like. His stomach churned and his throat was too tight. “Just breathe," Damian whispered to him and Jon nodded closing his eyes until he could suck in a full breath. Damian squeezed his hand again as his mother and grandmother came in with dinner. They were all sitting down when Clark came back in, a little more color in his face but his expression was stone. Jon could hear his mother talking but he couldn't decipher what she was saying as he watched his father watching all of them, looking around the table like he was trying to see if they all knew what Jon had been up to or if it was all some huge secret.

“So,” Martha clapped her hands together and looked between the boys. “Tell me everything. Who asked who? Is there a ring?” 

His father choked on his water and Lois patted his back absentmindedly as she waited for the story. 

“Y-yeah, I have a ring," Jon said his face red as he held out his hand for his grandmother to see. She took it, eyes shining as she looked up at Damian. 

“So you asked then?" She smiled brightly. 

Damian was completely cool. “Yes, ma'am.” 

“Was it romantic?” 

Jon looked at Damian who looked back at him so unfazed that he could almost forget that his family was there with them. He smiled at Jon, and for the first time, Jon felt like this one was real. “My family was never very good at expressing sentiment. I am afraid that I am not very sentimental either, the only thing I have ever wanted to keep is Jon so that is all I said.” Jon swallowed and his mother gave Damian a scoop of nothing but potatoes, the sweetness having her take pity on Jon's lying fiance that he had apparently mentioned dietary restrictions about before. 

“So, you're… gay?” Clark asked and the entire family turned to look at his father who did not seem to find the story any kind of amusing. “Just like that?” 

“Clark," his mother snapped.

“Lois, please.” He held a hand out to her and turned completely to look at his son. “Jon it's been twenty four years. We made you, we raised you. You never had a single boyfriend or said a word about a man in… that way. And now you show up ready to get married to this… this stranger?” 

“Clark.” It was Martha who spoke this time. “This is your son.” 

Clark stood up, his eyes fixed solely on Jon. It was like he was moving in slow motion. “I'm not so sure, Ma," he muttered and pushed his chair in. “Excuse me.” 

Watching his father walk away from him was the hardest thing that Jon had ever had to sit through. His heart clenched and this throat tightened and he would have done anything to go back ten minutes and start this dinner over. What made it worse was that he knew everyone was watching him as the front door slammed and they heard his dad’s truck kick on. He gave himself five seconds. Five seconds before he had to pull it together and he forced himself to smile at his mom. “We were thinking that maybe you'd come to Gotham soon.” he tried to sound breezy. “We wanna keep the wedding small, just…" he swallowed, flinching as the truck peaked out. "Just the family.” He cut into a potato and watched it steam instead of looking at their faces. “You’re so good at that stuff. And it would give you and Damian time to-” 

His mom hugged him and he swallowed hard as she kissed his temple and squeezed Damian's shoulder. He hadn't even realized she'd come around the table. “Why don't you and me look it all over tomorrow?" She asked him any hardness from earlier falling right out of her. Damian nodded in numb surprise and his mom sat back down. “So Damian, tell me more about that you do,” she said with a firm loving grip on Jon's hand across the table that clearly stated she was in his corner no matter what. "I know a little here and there from Jon, but honestly it's mostly gibberish to me."

“I manage people.” He glanced at the door Jon's father had left from. “I make sure that they have what they need to succeed.” He looked over to Jon. He still looked shaken. “The company has been focusing on medical applications. New technologies, or more affordable versions of the existing products. There are a lot of people out there who don't have access to equipment, and we're trying to fix that. Save a few lives.” 

“What made you want to become a- what did Jon call it?” Lois asked turning to Martha. 

“A master of all things mechanical.” Jon groaned and covered his face. “I think he changed that one though. Emperor of emails. No. Wizard of-” Jon yelped and Martha laughed. 

Damian glanced over to Jon and grinned when Jon peeked through his fingers at him. “It was my mother actually. She was a- uh, fixer. She went in and helped companies who were struggling. We traveled a lot because of it. It was just the two of us when I was younger so I spent a lot of time in the labs and offices where she was working. I learned more sitting in front of an old Russian chemist who missed his grandson than I learned in all of my university studies.” He mimicked the old man's voice as he told him to sit up straight and pay attention. They were all staring at him when he looked back up. 

“You speak Russian?” Jon asked. 

“I speak eleven languages. I can read in a few more.” Jon stared at him. He glanced to Lois and Martha who were both looking at him with that same surprised expression. “My mother knew more than that.” 

“How did I not know this?” Jon asked. 

He shrugged. There was only one person that they worked with that he spoke anything other than English with. “Emiko scares you so you avoid our meetings.”

“She doesn't scare me.”

He gave Jon a flat look. “Did you really think I believed your lie about Abigail needing your help to  _ send an email _ ?” 

“Ye- no?” Jon said. Martha was smiling to herself as she watched them and Jon's face heated up. “Her get-in-my-way-and-I-will-not-hesitate-to-stab-you face is so much worse than yours. I know you don't have any knives on you. She might!” 

“It's Gotham, you would probably be safer to assume everyone had a knife,” Lois chimed in. 

“My mother said the same thing when I told her I wanted to go to school there,” Damian said with a laugh. 

“Your mom sounds like a smart woman.”

“My first week in Gotham, I was getting your coffee and as I grabbed the sugar packets I watched someone gets mugged," Jon admitted, shaking his head like the sugar packets deserved better. "Like right there on the other side of the window.” 

“I'm surprised that you haven't been mugged yet.  _ Your _ face says I-will-thank-you-as-you-take-my-wallet.’” Jon cocked his head at him. “What?” 

“Nothing,” Jon said. 

“I'm craving some pie,” Martha said. “You boys want a slice?” 

“Yes please,” he said and Jon echoed him. 

Jon got caught up on the latest gossip as they ate their pies. He listened to them talk and watched Jon as he relaxed. A few yawns filled sentences later Lois was shooing them back upstairs. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have story requests, questions or just want to say hello-- follow DNA and I on twitter at [@PBrubbs](https://twitter.com/PBrubbs) and [@Dnawhite51](https://twitter.com/Dnawhite51) and see the process of our day to day writing frustrations.


	3. Chapter 3

Lois pulled Damian away from Jon when they headed down in the morning. She gave Jon a kiss on his head and told him his father was out in the barn. 

“We're going to show you all of the Smallville hot spots,” Lois declared and dragged him out the door before Jon could protest on his behalf. 

Smallville's hottest spot was a bakery in the middle of town. Martha dodged a few calls for her attention when they walked in and set him against the wall of the small booth. Lois slid across from him. 

“Ginger Freeman better keep away from me if she knows what's good for her,” Martha said sitting next to him. 

“You never did tell me what she did,” Lois said. 

“She  _ knows _ what she did,” Martha replied. 

Damian looked over to the smiling woman who looked like she could be on the cover of a cake mix. He didn't know what that innocent looking woman had done to earn Martha's ire, but he was glad it wasn't directed at him. 

“So Damian,” Lois said. He looked to her. “I wanted to apologize for yesterday. It was a big shock, but I shouldn't have reacted the way I did.” 

“It's okay,” he started. 

“Don't say that. I was rude. As was my husband, but I'll let him give you his own apology when he gets over himself.” He didn't know what to say, so he just nodded. 

“Jon looks happy.” He looked over to Martha. “Haven't seen him laugh like that in a while.” 

“Ye- I- uh.” He struggled with his words, he didn't know what to say. This was all a lie. He couldn't take credit for whatever they thought he'd done. So he changed the subject. “Jon said you were a journalist?” 

Lois nodded. “That's actually how Clark and I met. We met when he was still in school, dated for a while when he started at the Planet. But then his dad passed and he moved back here.” She looked to Martha. “I moved out here a few months after that.”

“Do you ever regret it?” he asked. He remembered being little and overhearing his parents argue about them settling down someplace permanent. At the time he hadn't understood why his mother had been so against it, but now he realized all that she'd have given up. 

“Sometimes. Mostly in those first few years. I'd read an article about something and I'd think about how much better I could have written it, how much deeper I would have dug. But I got to be around to watch Jon grow up, wasn't always out chasing a story. And I still write. Plus I get to call the shots now since I'm the editor of the Ledger. Why do you ask? Thinking about moving out here to Smallville?” Lois was teasing, but he could see that hope in her eyes. He chuckled and shook his head.

“I'm not finished with my work just yet,” he offered. 

“So wedding planning,” Martha said after forcing slices of pie on them when Ginger left the bakery. “Jon said just family, who all from yours would be coming so we know a count.” 

“No one. It's just me.” He saw the confusion. “My parents died.” And his grandparents had died decades before that. His mother's father was somewhere in the Himalayas, but he'd disowned her when she'd gotten pregnant, so he doubted he'd want to come, not that Damian wanted anything to do with him. 

“Oh, I'm sorry,” Martha gushed. 

“It was a long time ago.” 

Martha hugged him. He wasn't sure what to do, but eventually hugged her back. They pushed on, asking him his opinions on flowers and cake and so many other things he'd never thought about before. He'd never had any reason to think about it. 

Once they were done they headed to the grocery store where Damian pushed the cart while Martha and Lois talked about what they were going to make. He got some looks and Martha introduced him as Jon's  _ friend _ to one of their neighbors. But listening to them argue over how to turn recipes vegetarian made his chest ache. His chest had been aching for the last few hours. He'd forgotten what it was like having family around. He knew that they weren't really his family, but it was easy to let himself believe the lie. 

Jon was up in his room when they got back. He was staring at the ceiling, lost in thought. He shut the door behind him and Jon jerked shifting to look up at him. “Oh hey, how was it? They weren't terrible were they?” 

“No. It was… nice.” 

Jon laid back down and said, “That's good.” 

“I'm sorry," he blurted. "I didn't think this through. My parents died before I'd ever gotten the chance to tell them, before I'd even really known. Sometimes I think about what they would say, how they'd react, and I get the luxury of imagining everything good. I forgot that it doesn't always happen that way.” He took a breath. “So I'm sorry.” 

-

Jon had spent most of his morning walking to the barn door and back to the house. He could hear his dad’s music echoing louder than he remembered, but the once inviting sound somehow felt foreboding. So he didn’t make it to the barn. Instead he'd cleaned the kitchen and shucked corn for dinner. And then when he couldn’t think of anything else to do he started dinner, slipping the casserole in the oven before he dragged his feet back up to his room to hide and stare at the ceiling. 

He was a coward. When he'd pictured coming out to his parents, he’d always imagined this huge speech. His father would say the same things he had the night before, but after Jon spoke he would be moved to acceptance. Or, Jon would be so in love that he wouldn't care what his father had to say. Either way, he’d always known that he had to do it-- but now that it was out there, he didn't know what to do next. 

He was just thinking about closing his eyes when Damian burst into the room and started ranting at him. He watched him from where he was laying on the bed, his boss looking younger that Jon had ever seen him. He patted the empty space in the bed next to him and watched as the fire drained out through the man's feet before he accepted the invitation. He sat on the edge for a full minute before he finally lay stiffly next to him. Jon could feel the tension radiating off of him as Damian started to relax and gripped his elbows until he finally couldn't hold whatever he was thinking in. 

"Are you mad at me?" Damian asked. He wasn't timid or quiet about it. His question was direct and enlisted an immediate response from Jon. 

"No." He let out a sigh. "I'm not mad at all. I'm just…" he hesitated unsure of how much he should say. But Damian had already told him something hard, so maybe it was okay to let this out in return. "I guess I'm disappointed? I should have told my parents forever ago, but I was scared that this would happen. It's not like I didn't know what my father was going to say. I…" he looked at Damian and pushed his lips together before admitting, "I'm disappointed in him."

Damian looked like he wanted to say something but there was a light knock on the door and they looked up to see his mom in the doorway, watching them with a tender expression. "I can't believe you made dinner without me," she grumped as a reason to cover up the sheen in her eyes. 

Jon grinned at her, overcompensating for any hurt he may have caused. "I wanted to give you more time to make me a pie," he told her as he pushed himself up, planting a kiss on Damian's cheek as he went. "I'll help, give Dami a minute to rest from you two wearing him out."

Lois held a hand to her chest. "I would  _ never _ ," she said and gave him a good smack on the butt, but she laughed as he pulled the door shut. 

-

His mother woke him up early the next morning, sparing a moment to note that Damian had completely wrapped himself around him, the cool evening air leaving him searching for heat in the night. He showered and dressed and went straight to work with his mom cooking and his father setting up the barn with lights and enough tables to seat the town. His dad hardly spoke to him, but managed a stiff smile as they passed like it was a reflex he hadn't quite been able to quell. 

It was an awkward morning. Most of the barn was set up by the time that Damian woke up still looking sleepy and a little ruffled, his usually perfect hair a wavy mess. He looked at Clark who was glancing at him from on top of a ladder and glared before Damian turned on Jon, smiling too wide and too sincerely. Jon almost tripped but he caught him. 

"Good Morning," Damian told him easily, and kissed him like he did it every day. 

Jon tried not to seem so flabbergasted but he couldn't help the wildness in his eyes and the heat in his ears. "Good morning?" Jon asked him for reasons unknown to him. 

"I came to help," he said looking around at the almost full space. "Where do you-"

"We should be good here." His father cut across him before he could finish his question. He sent a tight smile his way, "why don't you go help Lois in the kitchen?"

"Actually she requested Jon," Damian replied with that smile again, only now it looked more like a smirk. "I'll take over," he said taking the stand of lights that Jon was holding out of his hands. 

"Damian…" he muttered in a warning. 

But Damian just kissed his cheek and put on his tall and calming demeanor he had seen Damian assume so many times at work. "I'll see you in a minute," he promised. And Jon knew that he wouldn't take no for an answer.

-

Damian woke up feeling like he'd slept for a year. It was the first time in a long time that he hadn't woken up and immediately checked his email. Or been woken up by his phone. He stretched out on the bed and let the silence of the morning wrap around him. When the nagging voice in the back of his head got to be too loud he slumped into the bathroom and changed. He stared at himself in the mirror. He looked younger. He looked his age. He ran a hand through his hair to loosen one of the curls that had been pushed up in his sleep, but didn't bother doing anything else. 

Lois stood at the kitchen window looking out at the barn. He followed her line of vision. "Would you like some help with lunch?" he asked. 

She yelped, and swung the towel in her hand at him. It slapped against the side of his head. She let go as he rubbed the back of his neck where the end had bit at him. Lois apologized while muffling a giggle. "You scared me."

"Sorry," he offered. He couldn't hide the smile that her reaction had caused. "I should have known. Jon nearly hit me with a rogue broccoli the other day." 

"Did he really?" She laughed. "And don't be sorry. It was just me, lost in thought." She folded the towel and put it back on the oven handle. "Did Jon tell you he didn't talk to his dad yesterday? They've been out there for a while." He looked out at the barn. He had thought based on how spaced out Jon had been when he'd gotten back that they had talked and it hadn't gone well. 

"I'm going to go say good morning," he offered and Lois looked relieved. 

He walked out to the barn. He couldn't help the wave of irritation that rushed over him when he saw the tense line of Jon's shoulders while he stood at the bottom of the ladder feeding a line of Christmas lights to his father. Jon turned at the sound of his footsteps. Damian looked up at Clark before smiling at Jon. He caught his elbow when he stumbled and the string of lights pulled taut. 

"Good morning," he offered and kissed Jon. Casual contact. He could do that. It was normal. They were dating. Engaged. This would be his future husband. He should be able to kiss him a good morning and not feel like his heart was going to beat out of his chest. 

He'd have to work on that. 

"Good morning?" Jon replied his eyes wide as he looked at him. Pleading for an explanation. 

"I came to help. Where do you-"

"We should be good here." He looked up to where the man had spoken as he slowly climbed down from the ladder. He was given a disapproving smile. He felt his irritation flare back up. "Why don't you go help Lois in the kitchen?"

"Actually she requested Jon," he replied sharply gritting his teeth to keep the smile on his face. "I'll take over."

"Damian…" Jon said quietly. Damian looked at him, kissed his cheek and squared his shoulders. 

"I'll see you in a minute."

He stood with the strand of lights in his hand until Jon had left the barn. As he disappeared from view he turned back to Clark. Damian waited for him to say something, he could see that there was something building. If anyone was going to hear the disapproving comments he wanted to it be him. Jon didn't deserve it. He deserved to be happy, and this was just a small thing Damian could do to help him toward that.

He met Clark's gaze, but instead of harsh words he pointed to the top of the ladder and said, "There is a nail up there you can hook that over." 

He tried not to let his surprise show. Instead, he nodded and climbed. They finished the row in absolute silence. The simmering irritation within him fading into a resigned sadness with each wordless minute that passed. They worked on Jonathan's grandmother's party. Celebrating her life and the  _ family _ she loved while it strained and threatened to break apart. He took the end of the birthday banner. The last item to hang. He had to say something. 

"I never met my grandfather." The fact hung in the silence of the barn. "I was told that he is a stubborn man. Set in his ways." He knew that Clark was watching him as he nailed the end of the banner to the rafter. "He had raised my mother to be strong. She worked hard and found success because of it. He was proud of her." He stared at the nail. "But she met my father, an  _ American _ . She fell in love. She had me. And that pride vanished." He turned and looked at Clark. "He didn't care that his child was happy--simply because it wasn't the happiness that he had envisioned for her." He looked around the room, the bright happy lights trying their hardest to break the tension. He started down the ladder and stopped in front of Clark. Jon looked so much like him. He looked up at the same bright blue eyes. "You don't have to like me. Most people don't. But you should think about whether this  _ frustration _ that Jon isn't what you wanted him to be is more important than you being in his life, in his children's lives." He handed Clark the hammer. "You raised an amazing man. A man that you should be proud of." He looked down for a moment. "I wish you could see that."

He had more he wanted to say, but he bit his tongue and went back into the house. Jon was laying down strips of pie dough over the top of the filling. Damian walked up behind him and put his face in between his shoulders as he wrapped his arms around him. His mom had always done the same when she'd gotten home late and his father was in the kitchen finishing up dinner. Damian remembered he had watched his parents instead of studying as his father stirred some sauce he was making and his mother wound herself around him. As he breathed in the fresh scent of Jon's shirt and felt his breaths come and go beneath his hands he understood why she'd found comfort in it. 

"D? You okay?" 

"I miss my mom," he whispered. His hands trembled as they tightened on Jon holding him closer. He swallowed past the emotions that had been building for the last day. Jon's hand covered his. He didn't say anything, just let Damian hold him. The screen door creaked as it swung open and Martha walked into the kitchen. He stepped back and Jon went back to the lattice work. 

"Oh perfect. Damian can you help me carry these bags in?" 

"Yes ma'am." 

" _ Martha _ ," she reiterated. 

-

The rest of the afternoon was a rush to get everything set up. When he felt like his arms were going to fall off after carrying a never ending stream of pies and cookies out into the barn Martha pulled him in and set a plate in front of him. He looked down at the dish, a recipe that her and Lois had planned the day before. "There won't be much for you to eat tonight, so I wanted to make sure you got something."

"You shouldn't have. It's your birthday."

"I've celebrated so many. I can spare a few minutes to make sure my future grandson doesn't waste away."

"Thank you." She pat him on the shoulder and headed back out to the barn. He knew that Lois would stop her before she made it inside but he grinned watching her attempts to sneak in. 

"I forgot how much work these things are," Jon said slumping into the chair across from him. He'd lost his overshirt hours ago and Damian watched as his tee clung to him. Damian had ruined an entire platter of cookies earlier walking into the barn door while Jon carried a bag of feed out to his dad. Lois had smirked at him as he rubbed the bump already growing on his head. He had felt his face flame and bent to pick up the cookies from the dirt. 

All day he'd been getting distracted more and more by Jon. Every little thing he did drew his attention and sent his heart racing. He didn't know if it was just being around Jon outside of work, or around a family again, or if that kiss had opened some flood gate within him--but he couldn't focus. 

"Lois said the entire town comes out?" he asked before taking a bite. He wondered if there was a way of getting Martha to make all of his food. It made him miss cooking. Miss his mother's soups.

"Most of them. I mean we can't fit everyone in the barn, but they certainly try." Jon smiled and stole a bite. He frowned at him and Jon grinned. 

"I might bring Martha back to Gotham with me instead of you." He hummed around the next bite. 

"I could cook you food. My grandmother did teach me how to cook you know." Jon pointed out. "Hey. I  _ have _ made you food!" Jon said sounding disgruntled. 

"But it didn't taste like this." He grinned at Jon and earned an eye roll. 

"You know you'd miss me," Jon teased.

"Eh. Maybe I'd miss the coffee," he mumbled. 

Jon leaned back chuckling at him. "Keep telling yourself that." 

Jon talked about some of the people that he was looking forward to seeing. By the time he finished Lois was walking into the kitchen urging them to go get ready. He stepped back into Jon's room after getting changed and Jon snorted. 

"You're going to a party, not a board meeting." He looked at the shirt and slacks. 

"I'm not wearing a jacket." Jon blinked at him, then pushed him back toward the bathroom. He disappeared for a moment then shoved a ball of fabric at him. 

"Change into that." 

He did as instructed and rolled his eyes when he stepped back out. "You just wanted to get me in plaid." 

"This is barely plaid." Jon did have a point the shirt was a dark blue with a barely lighter shade creating the pattern. "Somehow you still look like you're about to start a meeting on average corn prices." Jon pulled his sleeve so that he was standing right in front of him and started rolling it up. He stopped below his elbow and motioned for the other one. Damian gave him his arm staring as he rolled the fabric. "That's better I guess. You ready?" Jon asked when he finished the second sleeve. 

"No," he breathed, but took Jon’s hand. They walked down together and Jon took a deep breath before stepping out onto the porch. People were already milling about in and out of the barn. He could hear Martha laugh from the front yard. 

"Jonathan Kent!" Damian heard the reprimanding motherly voice and tightened his grip on Jon as they turned. "Where have you been hiding?" Jon accepted the sudden hug without letting go of Damian. 

"Oh we were getting dressed. Harry, this is Damian," he offered his free hand and got a hug. 

"The Beau. Martha mentioned him. He's a cute one. You better keep an eye on him. Someone might just snatch him up." Jon laughed uncomfortably and pulled him closer. Damian felt his heart thump heavy when his hand landed on his hip. 

"Looking for husband number 4?" Lois asked. They all laughed and Jon shot his mom a grateful look before pulling Damian away. 

"Harriet Polk. She's a three time widow. My grandma swears her husbands die just to get away from her." Jon continued telling him about each person that they passed and the gossip that came with them. He laughed, surprised by a twist in a story and Jon paused, looking at him with a soft smile. His hand had moved to rest at the small of Damian's back as they leaned against one of the pillars. 

"You can't be serious." 

"As a heart attack," Jon replied with a small twang he'd never noticed before and went back to his story. Damian felt eyes on them and caught a deep frown when he looked around the room. They seemed to be earning a mixed response. There were people who waved and smiled to Jon. Some who came over and insisted on meeting Damian. But others that stared and some that glared. He ignored those and focused on Jon's relaxed demeanor. 

"I'm going to run to the restroom, will you grab me one of those apple pie slices before they disappear?" Damian turned to scope out his mission and nearly missed the light kiss to his temple. He smiled as he watched Jon weave his way through the barn then set about getting that pie. It was easier than he expected. There were only three left when he got to the table. He took one and a strawberry for himself and stepped back over to their spot. He watched everyone as they now stared openly at him. He studied the pies and tried not to focus on the attention. 

"Where did your fiancé get off to?" Harriet asked. She smiled at him and he looked over his shoulder to check if Jon was coming back. 

"He just ran inside for a moment."

"How are you liking Smallville? I bet it's different than what you're used to." 

"I grew up in a few places that weren't so different than this." Volunteering information about himself was the wrong thing to do. She started asking questions and telling him about herself. His smile was starting to feel strained when he felt a hand slide around his hip.

"Thanks, babe," Jon said as he took the pie. 

"I nearly lost an arm for that pie," he said. Jon chuckled. "The grannies are rabid."

"I don't know how you survived." Jon's hand squeezed once before he let go and picked up the fork. 

"How did you two meet?" Harriet asked. Her eyes flicking between them with a smile. 

"Work," Jon offered shorter than he'd heard him talk to anyone here. 

"There has to be more to the story." 

"Jon told me I was rude." Harry laughed and asked for more. Jon glanced over to him a confused look on his face. Damian knew he didn't remember it. He'd been prepared for Jon's first say as his assistant to be awkward, but Jon hadn't even hesitated. "I'd just lost an assistant. And they told me to just take one of the interns. We ran into each other before the interview, and he called me out on something I'd done." He couldn't remember exactly what it was that had earned the sharp  _ 'you don't have to be so rude' _ but the exchange had stuck with him. When he'd walked past Jon sitting on the couches outside Drake's office he'd decided that he wanted him as his assistant. "There were more qualified interns. Ones that had more experience. Todd thought that I would eat him for breakfast. He was  _ 'Too nice. Too young' _ ." Damian grinned. "I just told him that if it didn't work there were 10 other interns that I could pick from later. That was a little over three years ago. I think I made a good choice." He glanced over to Jon. 

Harriet laughed and swatted Damian on the arm as Jon struggled to keep a smile on his face. He remembered that. It was his very first day in the office and he hadn't had the pleasure of meeting the  _ Demon _ , yet. He hadn't even realised that they had been talking about Damian when he had been assigned to his service. He'd spent an entire morning following a very particular set of instructions on how to set up a conference room, only to have him storm in and without even looking up he told Jon that it was wrong. So he redid it. And he redid it again. And by the fourth time, Damian finally looked up and fixed Jon with a bored look saying, "About time," in his very becoming and unidentifiable accent. And he had no idea what it was that had finally set him off and he snapped at him. Or maybe he'd just spoken sharply at him? Either way he had been sure he was about to be fired when he was called into Mr. Todd's office an hour later and saw Damian there with his lackluster resume. 

Suddenly the barn felt much hotter than it had a minute before, and Jon wished more than anything that Harriet was bothering anyone else. As it was, she didn't seem to take any cues. "That doesn't sound a thing like our little Jonny." She shook her head at him like he was still a child. 

"I think you will find that  _ Jonny _ has grown quite a bit." Damian smirked, raising an eyebrow at him as if daring Jon to comment on that. 

The song changed and Jon bit at the inside of his cheek to quell his growing grin. "Mind if I steal my fiancé for a minute?" He asked, taking Damian's hand before Harriet could respond and he pulling him out into the middle of the crowded barn. 

"What are you doing?" He demanded when Jon pulled him in, wrapping his free arm around him so that his hand was on his lower back.

Jon grinned at him. "Pay back," he told him. "Never call me Jonny again. Do you know how to two step?" He just blinked and Jon laughed. "Don't worry, I'll lead. Just follow me." 

To his credit, Damian was very good at following. He fell easily and gracefully into step with Jon only stumbling once when Jon tried to spin him and that brought Damian back with wide eyes filled with amusement. Almost everyone was watching them now but Damian was so unfazed and Jon could have kissed him for that. He almost did. And then he thought why not? They were getting married, and maybe none of this was real but it felt real at that moment and it would have been so nice just to pretend. Pretend that Damian loved him and that he always had, from that very first day in the boardroom. 

"Your grandma is watching us," Damian whispered bringing him out of his trance. 

The song had changed again and they were now slow dancing to an old Sam Cook song that he used to hear blasting through the house on Sunday mornings. He looked over at her, smiling when she beamed at him, her eyes looking a little brighter than usual.

"You made her birthday by being here," he told Damian who almost stopped dancing just then, but Jon kept him moving. "I'm serious. I think that she always kind of knew who I was. We never talked about it, but she just… knows things." He shrugged because it was true. "I don't think she ever imagined that I would have the guts to tell my family-- and honestly I probably never would have but… I'm glad I did." Damian's eyes softened as Jon stared into them. "Thanks for that," he muttered, and since everyone was watching, he closed the small distance between them. 

It was meant to be a small kiss. For show, because the moment was too perfect to miss that opportunity. But once their lips connect he couldn't pull himself back. Damian's lips were so soft and warm and he smelled like laundry detergent and hay- a strangely wonderful combination. He felt his hand moving up his back and up to his neck so he could hold him closer, completely unable to stop himself. Damian didn't seem to mind, he played into it, even parting his lips slightly. Jon felt his tongue on the edge of his teeth but then the barn doors opened and singing started and they broke apart to watch the cake being carried in. He looked at Damian while everyone was distracted and felt his face turn red. He grinned sheepishly and Damian furrowed his brows, eyes drifting back down to his mouth. "Maybe we should-"

There was a tapping on the side of a glass and the moment was officially broken as his grandmother stood beaming in the middle of the tiny town she had been in her entire life. 

"I just want to thank you all for being here," she told them all and there were a few whistles and cheers. "It means so much to me that you have all made it out. But I hope you don't mind me saying that the real joy here is that my grandson Jonathan made the trip from Gotham just for me." She held a hand over her heart, cheeks rosy from wine. "Jon, if your grandfather was here…" she shook her head, eyes getting misty. "Well, he would be so proud." She cleared her throat and directed her smile at Damian. "And so very happy to see you so in love and so free. But look at me babbling." She raised her glass and smiled around at everyone. "To another year with my growing family." 

There were hoots and claps all around and Jon couldn't help but look at his dad and notice just how stiff the smile was on his face while his hometown lit up around him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have story requests, questions or just want to say hello-- follow DNA and I on twitter at [@PBrubbs](https://twitter.com/PBrubbs) and [@Dnawhite51](https://twitter.com/Dnawhite51) and see the process of our day to day writing frustrations.


	4. Chapter 4

Saying goodbye was a long affair. Jon's mother had insisted that they all get up early and have breakfast together one last time before they headed back so they passed out right after the party. It was almost a relief to feel Damian slip so suddenly into sleep, but as soon as he turned toward Jon's back he remembered that morning and his heart started hammering. 

So Jon was exhausted when he pulled their suitcases down the stairs the next morning and tossed them in the back of the truck. Martha was making pancakes while his mother and Damian were talking about one of her stories when he stepped outside but it seemed like they had moved on since then. His father read the paper intently at his mother's side. He sunk into his chair just as his grandmother dropped a large stack of pancakes in front of him and Lois said, "So it's settled then." She looked between the two of them. "We'll come up to Gotham in two weeks and help you get ready." 

Jon choked on the large bite he'd just taken and coughed for a minute until it went down. "Help us get ready?" He repeated. 

"For the wedding." Martha rolled her eyes like he was making a joke. "It may not seem like a lot of work to you, but you can't expect Damian to get everything done on his own in just three weeks-" he zoned out as she went on. Right. In the bubble of his family home, Jon had almost forgotten that there was a head to all of this. He was going to marry Damian so that he didn't get deported and if things went well, then he would have his own office and a new job to focus on. 

"We'll be happy to have you," Damian said without missing a beat as Jon lost his train of thought, the food on his plate looking less appealing every second. "We have so much space at our place, you could come up sooner if you like." 

Martha seemed tickled by the idea but Lois shot her a look. "We should give you a little space. Don't want to crowd you when you have something so big coming up! But you can count on us being there on the 23rd! Just wait the 30th will be here in no time!" 

November 30th. They had a date. Jon had to remind himself that that was a good thing as he forced down another bite. 

-

Damian was quiet on the plane, tucking his head into Jon's neck and muttering to himself when they hit patchy spots. The second flight was much easier, Damian even managed to keep a light enough grip on Jon's hand that he fell asleep. He shook him awake lightly as they started to descend. 

And then it was like nothing had happened. Damian took a phone call as soon as they started out of the gate towards the baggage claim, keeping a brisk pace as they went to grab their luggage. Jon pulled off both of their suitcases and when Damian hung up the phone, Jon took his hand. He looked at him confused and a little startled. Jon fixed him with a look. 

"The act doesn't change just because we aren't in Smallville," Jon reminded him with a shrug and lead him towards the car that was waiting outside. 

-

It was easy for Damian to let himself believe that this was real. Surrounded by the warmth of family - of home. Something he hadn't had in years. The Kent farm felt like it was built to welcome you. Not a single wall was the dull, blank white of his apartment. Instead there were pictures and art covering them. Generations of their family smiling and happy. He woke up and looked over to the bedside table and a picture of Jon and his friends in their prom outfits. It wasn't a string of slightly blurry photos sloppily taped into a frame because it was the only thing he had left of his parents. Before Jon he'd never thought that he'd have that again, never laugh because the joy in his chest had only one way to escape. 

But none of this was real. 

Reality hit as soon as they stepped off the plane. He hadn't even left the terminal when his phone started ringing. If it had been anyone other than Todd he might have let it ring out, but he knew it had to be important if the man had gone as far as timing when he called. He followed a few paces behind Jon as they walked to baggage claim. 

"How was Smallville?" Todd asked in a teasing voice. 

"It was fine. Did you need something?" 

"Not exactly." He hummed and Damian slowed a few more steps letting a family get between him and Jon. "So Rex called Tim last night."

He didn't respond. He knew that Todd had left it open to see if he'd fill the space with some excuse or a question. If he'd been worried about what Rex had said maybe he would have, but he wasn't, so he didn't. Todd seemed almost disappointed by the silence. 

"Anyway. It didn't go how Rex wanted it to I think. I'm about to send you some files." He felt his phone alert him to an email. "He did make a few claims that concerned Tim though. Namely that it was impossible for one person to do that job, and that you refused to work with him on projects." 

Damian bit back the denial that threatened to rip itself out of his throat. He had offered anytime a project started to fall behind to help and had always been denied. He pulled the phone away to look at the email. 

"Drake believes him," he mumbled under his breath. He knew Todd had heard him and the silence was answer enough. 

"I think that he simply wants to make sure that Jon's put in a position where he can succeed. Yeah maybe he did go a hair overboard by breaking down every day of Jon's transition period, but it'll be one less thing for you to worry about. I know you're reading it, but I'll give you the basic breakdown. Starting on Monday you'll go over all current projects in detail. I am aware that Jon already oversees some of the larger projects with you, but he'll need to take a more active role in all of them. Next week all end of year reporting and a private check in with us. Tim insisted on this. By week 2 we're hoping that he'll have a grasp on all current projects since you two have an event the following week. He'll need to focus on training, so Stephanie is going to take over your schedule. She's also going to find you a new Jon. By the time you're back from your honeymoon we'll have a new and improved project manager and you'll have a new assistant." 

"Should I be concerned?" he asked. He watched Jon pull a bag off the carousel. 

"No. I've seen how you work with Jon. You'll be fine. We knew you and Rex never got along." There was a pause. "Tim has a lot of shit going on right now and your possible deportation and Rex' termination are just making him very," Todd hesitated, "Stressed." 

"Maybe you should take him on a vacation." He knew that he was pushing into the personal, but Todd had already opened up so it didn't feel like he was going too far. "Sleeping without alarm clocks…" he trailed off and definitely did not sigh. 

"Maybe I will," Todd answered sounding almost whimsical. 

"I have to go. Jon's going to start glaring at me any second now."

"Not even married yet and you're already whipped." Todd made a cracking noise before hanging up. 

Damian tried to focus on anything but the feel of Jon's hand on his knee as they drove through the city. It was a casual gesture. Damian listened to Jon talk to the driver, one of their regulars, and counted down from twenty until he could focus on the email updates from Brown. 

"Why is Stephanie asking if you like blondes or brunettes?" 

"She's being irritating. She's in charge of finding your replacement." He forwarded over the transition plan to Jon before replying back that he preferred green hair. "We have an intense week ahead of us." 

-

"L Corp is in conference room 3," Brown said over the intercom. He looked up from his bowl of noodles and blinked at the phone. 

"Right now?" he asked mouth still full. Jon snickered. 

"I put it on your calendar," Brown replied in a too sweet voice. This was the third time that he'd nearly missed an appointment because she put it on his calendar without telling him. He swallowed the noodles and grabbed his jacket. 

"Finish the-" 

"Yeah. I got it. Go. You're going to be late," Jon replied. He crossed over the desk and pressed the intercom. "He had just taken his first bite. You're evil," Jon said to who he assumed was Brown. Jon gave him a pointed look when he lingered in the doorway. 

Lena smiled when he walked in the room. She was sitting at the table with her phone in her hand. "Steph told me you were eating lunch with your fiancé. We could have rescheduled." 

"I'll see him at home. You have the prototype?" Her eyes sparkled as she picked up the case sitting by her feet. He failed miserably at hiding his excitement. It was rare that he got to work with Lena. They competed in too many markets, but any time one of them had some new toy to show off, they were the first to see it. 

"If I hadn't sat in one of your meetings with Lena I'd think you just cheated on me with how happy you look," Jon said when he got back to the office. "Fancy new toy?" 

He nodded. "She is the Master of all things Mechanical."

"You're never going to let me live that down are you?" 

He shook his head. Jon pushed his bowl, still somehow still warm likely the product of a courtesy call and the microwave, to him and started reciting the details of their next three projects. 

-

"Damian," he glanced up. Jon was leaning against the bedroom door. He gone to bed a few hours ago and his hair showed it. "Come to bed. You have a meeting at 7 tomorrow morning. Now that I know what causes Code Blacks I can't in good conscience let them happen." 

"You're not supposed to be looking at my schedule." 

"I just checked to see if we could go in together." 

"What is a Code Black?" he asked setting his laptop down. 

Jon yawned. "On days when you wear your all black Zegna you're a complete asshole. I now know it's because you don't sleep and are grumpy af." Jon face planted onto the bed and flopped around until most of the covers were over him. Damian sighed and pulled them over his feet on his way to the shower. 

Jon was watching him when he climbed into bed. His eyes were barely open, but Damian could see him tracking his movements. "We should go on a date." 

"What?" Damian asked, the sleepy feeling that had been curling around him disappeared. 

"Some of the people at work were talking about their date nights and I didn't know what to say. I made some story about watching movies on that blow up screen at the park because you slept next to me while I watched Tombstone two nights ago. But it's probably something we should do." Jon had closed his eyes and his voice was soft and sleep filled. "I could pick you up at your office tomorrow." 

"Okay," he replied. Jon smiled faintly already drifting off. 

He stared at the ceiling of his room while Jon's breathing evened out.  _ It wasn't real _ . He repeated silently. With each brush of Jon's hand against his or peck to his cheek as they parted ways on the elevator he felt himself falling back into that same trap. Even Jon leaving the coffee cup on his desk was leaving him breathless. He didn't know what was wrong with him, but he needed to get it under control. 

In the morning he put on his Zegna and smirked when Jon looked up from his bowl of oatmeal. "You're taking me somewhere nice tonight, right?" 

Jon knew that is was ridiculous to be attracted to someone's ankles, but his eyes linger on Damian's as he straightened his collar, no tie in play whatsoever in his black, sockless suit. It was deadly. He thought that he might now understand why it was so scandalous. Jon had seen Damian in this suit so many times that he couldn't count them, but he had always looked so severe and structured. Now he looked laid back and, though he was pretty sure Damian would roll his eyes if he told him this, more like a male model that anyone he'd ever known in real life. Damian was smirking at him when he said his name and Jon's eyes snapped back up to his face. He didn't bother apologizing, instead asking, "What?"

"On our  _ date _ ," he had the smallest hint of his nameless accent in the word that sent Jon's entire body into a heated state that he wasn't sure how to fix just yet. They hadn't actually kissed since they left Smallville and still his lips were buzzing from the barn, the torture of waking up next to Damian every day and not being able to touch him driving Jon out of bed earlier and earlier. "The one you think we need to go on. Are we going somewhere nice?" 

He chewed on his oatmeal longer than he needed too and pushed his glasses up before he deposited the bowl in the sink. "...define nice."

The smile fell off of Damian's face. "Jon," he said sharply. 

But Jon just grinned at him as he walked over, running his hands down his glorious arms to quell the monster growing inside of him. "It will be  _ fun, _ " he promised. "Trust me." He told him and went to go brush his teeth. 

Damian was wary for most of their walk to the office but loosened up a little after his first sip of coffee. He started guessing things as he took Jon's hand when they entered the building. He laughed when Damian looked horrified asking him if they were going to the zoo and shook his head. 

"You hate the zoo," Jon told him listing off one of the thousands of facts that he had memorized from the years of working so closely together. "Animals in captivity make you sad. I'd never take you to the zoo-- or a circus for that matter."

"How do you know that?" Damian demanded him. "Of all the weird details to know about your boss…"

Jon shrugged grinning as the elevator doors opened. "When you have a thing for your boss, you notice things," he said ominously as they walked out. He could feel people watching them pass, taking in Damian's outfit with fear and then confusion. He couldn't help but smirk as Damian pestered him, asking questions that Jon answered in smirks and shrugs and his cheeks tinted in frustration. He dropped his bag in one of the chairs as Damian rambled at him how ridiculous he was being and dug out his portfolio. He checked his watch and pressed his lips together.

"What is it?" Damian asked frowning at the face he was making. 

"My meeting with Mr. Drake." He shrugged and forced a smile through the nerves. "He just makes me a little uneasy."

Damian drew his brows in. "Did he do something? Because I swear I'll-"

He put his hand over Damian's and cut him off, unable to help his grin at how quickly he jumped in to defend him. "No, no. He's just so intense. He makes me feel like I'm a little kid." He shrugged. 

Damian frowned at that and squeezed his hand. "You are definitely not a child," he said in a strong but quiet voice. 

Jon nodded. "Kiss for luck?" He asked and tapped his cheek, but Damian surprised him by grabbing the nape of his neck and pressing his mouth hard against his. 

He was cool as a cucumber when he released the very flustered Jon to go sit behind his desk. "Not that you need luck," he said easily and logged into his computer. "Drake likes you. Just show him that you're better than Rex, which shouldn't be difficult seeing as you were already doing his job, and I'll see you at lunch?" He asked the last part and glanced at him in a question. He nodded and Damian surprised him again with a dazzling smile that Jon didn't even know he was capable of. "Good luck."

Jon walked back to the elevator in a daze, barely hearing the chatter of whispers that followed him through the cubicles. It was strange thinking that the people were his coworkers just a week before and now he was their boss. His stomach dropped at the doors closed and he rode up to the top floor. 

Tim was waiting in his office, talking in Chinese to whoever was on the other line. He waved Jon in, barely looking at him as he wrote something down in his notebook and nodded. He said a few more quick words before he hung up and focused his attention intently on Jon. "You speak Chinese?" Jon couldn't help but ask, impressed. 

"You don't?" Tim asked raising an eyebrow at him. "It's the universal language of business."

Jon shrugged and smiled wistfully. "I'm afraid I don't have an ear for languages. I took French in high school cause my Ma thinks it sounds nice. She always enjoyed Edith Piaf."

A tiny smile quilted at the edge of Tim's mouth before he managed to quell it, but he couldn't hide the amusement in his eyes. " _ Are you fluent?" _ He asked in French now making Jon blink. 

" _ I know enough."  _ He warbled through it, cringing at his own accent. " _ If I, for whatever reason, got stranded in France, I probably wouldn't die." _

Tim smirked that time and opened his laptop. "We should get started." He sighed and Jon nodded opening his portfolio to the newest project reports he had been working on. 

-

Damian was talking to some poor bastard who looked terrified when he got back to his office. The door was open so he walked in and realised that he had wandered into an interview. The poor kid looked like he was just about to faint with fear as Damian scanned his resume with a dissatisfied expression and looked up at Jon before he pressed his lips together and closed the file. 

"You can go," he told the boy without anything else and he all but sprinted out of the room, door shutting behind him. "How was it?" He asked attention zeroing in on Jon. 

Jon shrugged and dropped into the chair the kid had just vacated. "It was fine. Tim's actually a pretty cool guy." 

His fiancé's eyes narrowed. "So he's  _ Tim _ now?" He asked. 

Jon just rolled his eyes and took the file that he had been flipping through. "He actually had pretty decent credentials," he muttered changing the subject, even though the hint of jealousy in Damian's voice was definitely something he was tempted to poke at. "How many have you seen today?" 

"Too many," he groaned and rubbed at his eyes. "What time is it?" 

"Noon." Jon grinned and Damian groaned again. "Come on, you need to consume something other than caffeine." 

Lunch went by too quickly and when they got back to the office, Jon had his own office to go to and his own employees to follow up with. He was surprised how quickly the day ticked by and before he knew it, Damian was knocking on his office door and it was just past six. "I thought you were supposed to pick  _ me _ up." 

Jon stretched and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, I got caught up in this report," he admitted. "But I can finish it later." He pushed out of his chair and walked over to him, guiding him by the small of his back through the office. "Are you ready for the best date of your life?"

Damian shrugged trying to seem nonchalant but Jon could tell he was nervous. "That's a pretty tall order."

"What's the best date you've ever been on?" Jon asked. Damian just shrugged and Jon groaned. "What? Are you seriously not going to tell me?" 

Damian smirked. "If it helps, I already like you more than the other guys." 

" _ Guys _ ?" 

He didn't reply. 

Damian took his hand and let Jon lead him through downtown as they talked about what he went over with Tim and how their day apart went. It had been so long since he had not spent a work day on Damian's heels that Jon hadn't realized how nice it would be to listen to him talk about it. He was so passionate, about everything. Even the normal boring things that most other people didn't blink at. He was fascinating. And the way he spoke was intoxicating from his tinted tones and his annunciation. Jon was just starting to daydream about all of the things he would be fascinated to hear him say when Damian finally asked. "Um, where are we?" 

Jon grinned and pulled him into the small building that reeked of wood and had old rock music crooning at the perfect level through the speakers, only cut by a  _ thunk _ a couple of times a minute. There was a small man with long hair and a septum ring standing at the counter and he smiled widely at the pair of them, probably taking in the way they were dressed. "Here to let off some steam?"

"Yes, please," Jon agreed, glancing at Damian's confused face. 

"Perfect, let me see your IDs and let's fill out some waivers!" 

"Jon?" Damian asked when he had finished filling out his paper and slid it over to the man. Jon hummed and finished signing his name. "What exactly are we doing?"

The man picked the perfect time to come back to the counter. He handed back their IDs. Then he pulled out four small hatchets and passed them each a pair. Jon grinned before answering, "We are throwing axes."

Damian blinked. "What?" 

"Right this way gentlemen," the man said coming around the counter. He lead them past a few occupied stalls until they found a free one with a large target on the wall. "Alright boys, the rules are simple. No throwing when someone is standing in front of the red line and no cheating. Your score is also equivalent to your man points, so may the best man win." He winked at them and let them be. 

Damian waited a moment for him to leave ear shot before he turned on Jon. "You brought me to an axe throwing shop to fulfill some kind of twisted lumberjack fantasy didn't you?" 

Jon laughed and shook his head. "If I wanted that I would have forced another plaid shirt on you." Damian's eyes widened at the mention of the 'not' plaid shirt he had given him in Smallville. "I brought you here to prove my manly worth to you and earn your affection."

Damian narrowed his eyes and pushed his lips together chewing on that. He slipped off his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves. " _ If _ you win," Damian replied and chucked the axe hard at the board. It sank straight into the center of the target. 

It turned out that Damian had studied several different martial arts as a child and his aim was excellent. Jon went in thinking he would be more in his element, but Damian had him completely creamed before they were even half done. 

"Okay. You are manlier than me," Jon admitted when he marked down Damian's third consecutive bullseye. "You should have an executive outing here, they would be at your feet in fear." 

"They already are," Damian muttered, only half paying attention as he lined up his next shot. "They are all scared because they know that if I wanted to, I could have any of their jobs. That's why one of them outed me to immigration."

Jon hadn't known that. He watched Damian concentrate, taking the opportunity to openly stare at him while he was awake for the first time. Everything about Damian screamed grace and sharpness. He was all edges and, not for the first time, Jon felt a small pull in his gut that he wasn't ready to examine. Damian threw the axe straight down the middle and turned grinned at Jon with that dazzling smile he'd unleashed on him that morning. 

"What do I win?" He asked. Jon chewed on his bottom lip and handed him an axe keychain that said  _ manliest. _ "An acceptable prize." He nodded. 

Jon grabbed his jacket and held out his hand to him. "Are you hungry?" 

Damian took it. "Starving."

They walked a little further out of town until they reached a small deli on the corner. It was busy for a Wednesday. People running in and out with packages but the actual restaurant was pretty calm. The sweet older woman behind the counter grinned at Jon and waved him over as she found an opening and pulled him in for a hug. 

"Oh my god, I think you've grown a foot since I last saw you!" She accused him and smacked his chest. "And who is your friend, Jon?" She asked turning in Damian. 

Jon stood a little taller to play it up,"Mary, this beautiful young man is my fiancé." 

She clapped her hands over her mouth and squealed, "No!" He held out his ringed hand to her and she jumped again, this time crushing Damian to her. "I can't believe it! You two go sit down, you can't get married when you are this skinny. Your usual?"

"Two please," he grinned and she shooed them both towards a booth and jumped back behind the counter.

"Who is that?" Damian finally asked when the shock from the love assault wore off and they were settled in their seats. 

Jon had been looking around at the deli and snapped back into himself. "Oh, Mary was my first boss when I moved to Gotham," he explained. "I moved right after I graduated before I got the internship, so I worked at the deli for a few months while I was waiting to hear back from all of the places I applied. The only reason I am alive today us because Mary stocked up my fridge with sandwiches." He smiled as she came over and put two plates in front of them, kissing Jon on the cheek before she ran back off to help another guest. "And this-" he waved his hand over the sandwich like he was a magician. "Is the absolute best vegetarian sandwich in the entire galaxy." 

He could tell that Damian was trying not to smile as he watched him flaunting his dork around. "You brought me across town to eat a sandwich?"

"The best sandwich ever made," Jon corrected taking a bite of his. "But yes I did." He took another bite and watched as Damian resigned himself to his own sandwich taking a tasting bite. 

His eyes lit up and "Fuck." Was all he said.

"I know right!"

They ate quickly and Mary brought them pie and coffee. They took their time picking at it and sipping from their cups talking about the worst dates they had ever been on. And then the best came up again. 

"I went to prom with my best friend in high school," Jon offered. "She knew I was gay, so it wasn't weird or anything. We had a French final the next morning so we made a pact to only talk to each other in French- which lead to a lot of comfortable silences and laughing and not knowing what was going on." He sighed thinking about it. "Did you know that Tim speaks French?" 

Damian nodded. "I did," he agreed. "As do I." Jon snorted, "What?" 

"Is there anything you don't do?" He asked. "You have to speak like a hundred languages."

He looked like he wanted to refuse but he smirked and shrugged. "Eleven" 

Jon sat back in his seat and just looked at him, this amazing stranger that he was going to marry in less two weeks. "Well what about you?" He asked. "The best date you've ever had?" 

Damian watched him for a moment, smirk falling and after a brief hesitation he started speaking in a language that Jon didn't know. He grinned at first waiting for him to switch over so that Jon could understand him- but he didn’t. And his face was so serious as he spoke, moving his hands in a poetic way that he found himself leaning in to watch in. Jon hadn't realised that he finished until Damian had gone silent for a full three minutes and it took him awhile to find enough voice to say. "I have no idea what you just said, but it sounded amazing."

"If you're okay with me hijacking your date I can show you." He grinned and Jon sat up straight. 

"Yeah. Okay." 

"After we finish these." He took a few more bites and watched Jon as he resumed his bad date tales. When they finished their pie and coffee and had said goodbye with a promise to come back they headed out. "You waited until you weren't my assistant anymore to give me this because you didn't want to drive out here every day." 

"Yes," Jon said with a grin. "That was exactly my plan," 

Damian stepped out and hailed a cab. They were quiet as they rode through the town. Jon looking up at the buildings as they passed like even after the years that he had lived in the city they were still amazing. When the taxi pulled to a stop he grabbed Jon's hand. "If someone tries to mug you, just hit them with my prize." He left his axe keychain in Jon's hand and stepped out of the cab with a thank you to the driver. 

Jon stepped closer to him as they walked through the alleys and overcrowded sidewalks. He tugged Jon into a small doorway and pried open the rusted lock. 

"Are we supposed to be in here?" Jon asked. Damian looked back and smiled before starting up the stairs. "That wasn't an answer." 

"If we aren't - you continuing to ask isn't going to change anything."

"Well I don't really want to go to jail tonight," Jon replied. 

"From the sirens, I think GCPD has other things going on."

"So we aren't supposed to be here." 

"Jon."

"Damian," Jon retorted in a flat voice. He chuckled and Jon took his hand. 

The hand holding stopped after the first flight of stairs. The comments stopped after the tenth. "Damian," he turned and Jon was leaning on a railing. "How much further?" He pointed to the door above them and Jon sighed and pushed off. 

He stopped in front of the door. He remembered it being flung open and the pinks and blues of the sunset brushed across the sky. He turned back to Jon. "Do you trust me?" 

"I followed you into a deserted building."

"Right. I'm going to cover your eyes, then you'll open the door and step out." He stepped up behind Jon and covered his eyes. Jon pushed the door open and they stepped out. The wind brushed across his face, cooling the sheen of sweat that their trek up the stairs had caused. He stopped Jon from walking any further and stepped close behind him as he kicked the door shut behind them. He hooked his chin over Jon's shoulder and dropped his hands. Gotham spread out before them. The stout brick buildings rising into the massive warehouses and the skyscrapers filling the sky beyond them. He heard Jon's breath catch. Then felt him lean back into Damian when he saw how high up they were. "You're okay." 

"We're- that's- high," Jon stuttered and pointed to the ledge that was only a few steps past their feet. 

"There used to be a skywalk here years ago before they tore down the other building." He stepped to the side and let Jon press himself back against the wall. Damian watched him as his eyes flicked to the ground far beneath them and the view in front of him. Then his eyes moved to him. 

"You love Gotham," Jon said. The wind nearly whisking his words away. 

"It's home. No matter it's faults, when it looks like this-" Damian looked out at the lights. "How could I ever leave?" 

He could feel Jon's eyes on him when he turned back to the view. He could, and had once before, stay there until the sun started to break over the bay. Jon took his hand and they leaned against each other watching the city alive beneath them. 

"Do we have to walk back down the stairs?" Jon said a little while later as the wind started to sting. 

"Actually, that door locked behind us." Jon jerked and looked at him then the door he was leaning against. 

"What?" 

"Yeah. That's our way down." He pointed to the skeleton of the old construction elevator.

"No. You're lying." 

"You can try the door if you want, but I'm starting to get a little cold." 

"If I die I'm haunting you," Jon said stepping up behind him.

"I look forward to it." He stepped onto the platform and felt it shift. Jon stared at him from the ledge. He tugged him on and pulled him close as he reached for the hand brake. Jon looked down then at Damian, his eyes wide as they swayed. He tugged Jon in by his tie. Jon's hand clutched at his hip as he focused on him, Jon leaned forward and Damian released the brake. They dropped and Jon yelled. He laughed and watched the floors tick by. He grabbed the brake, slowing their barely controlled descent. They stopped a few feet off the ground and Jon scrambled off. He jumped down and looked back up. 

"That was so much faster than taking the stairs." He smiled at Jon. 

"The door didn't lock did it?" Jon asked. 

Damian dusted his hands off and started down the street. 

"I'm going to kill you," Jon sputtered. 

"I think this was my favorite date. I don't know how you're going to top it on the second one." He grinned over to Jon. 

"That's a little presumptuous." 

"You are marrying me." 

"I don't know. You did just try killing me on our first date."

"What kind of date doesn't end in a little fear?" 

"Uh most of them?" 

He stopped and looked to Jon who had stopped as well. "Yeah?" He took a step toward Jon "You mean that you've never gotten that rush of adrenaline as you wondered if they'd kiss you?" With a hand on Jon's hip he backed him against the wall. "Your heart doesn't beat a little faster as you lean in?" Jon's eyes dropped to his mouth. "That final moment before your lips meet when you realize that you'll never get a first kiss with that person ever again, that this date this perfect moment will have to end, and the tension of what will happen after." He shifted onto his toes and kissed Jon. He kept his eyes closed as he slipped back down. When he opened them Jon was staring in awe at him. "Perfect date," he breathed. 

"Hey fancy man. I'll suck your dick for $5." They both turned to the raspy voice at the mouth of the alley. "$10 and he can watch." 

"Uh, no thank you," Jon called and grabbed Damian's hand before pulling him out onto the street and toward a busier road. 

"I can't believe it. You are polite even when getting propositioned. You  _ would _ thank mugger." 

"I'm pretty sure she was asking you,  _ fancy man _ ." 

When they got back to the apartment there was a moment when Jon was struggling with the lock that he wanted that goodnight kiss. But this wasn't good night. This was Jon's new key being a fraction of a centimeter off and them returning to their soon to be married life. Jon headed for the shower first complaining about the cold. Damian set up in front of his laptop and skimmed a few articles that he had gotten while he waited for the shower. 

Jon slumped onto the couch, skin pink and hair damp and loosely curling. "You better not be working. No working on date night." He showed Jon the article on volcanoes and went back to reading. By the time he finished the article Jon had stretched out, his feet had found their way into Damian's lap and he was chatting with someone from the near constant vibes of his phone. He slipped out from under Jon's feet, but Jon just followed him, typing as he walked. He climbed into the bed as Damian headed for the shower. 

_ "Hello."  _

He stuck his head out when he heard the painfully accented mandarin coming from the bedroom. 

"What are you doing?" Damian asked. 

"Tim said that Chinese was the language of business. I thought I'd try learning some?" 

"You don't need to." 

"I know that. But I want to." 

He heard the chime and Jon showed him the app. 

"Let me know if you want help studying. 

He brushed his teeth and when he got back Jon was repeating numbers under his breath. He settled on his side and watched Jon select symbols and match words. He shifted closer as Jon moved on to more greetings. His head rested on Jon's shoulder and he fell asleep listening to mispronounced greetings. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have story requests, questions or just want to say hello-- follow DNA and I on twitter at [@PBrubbs](https://twitter.com/PBrubbs) and [@Dnawhite51](https://twitter.com/Dnawhite51) and see the process of our day to day writing frustrations.


	5. Chapter 5

It was too early when Jon woke up. No light was streaming in beyond the curtains and Damian was still curled into his side. Jon watched him in groggy content for a moment before his phone went off again and he remembered what had woken him in the first place. 

“‘Lo?” he grumbled into the receiver without checking it. 

“Damian is going to kill me.” The panicked voice was familiar but Jon was still just asleep enough that he had to pull the phone away from him so that he could check the contact-- and the time. 

“Hold on," he told JJ under his breath and carefully untangled himself from Damian who groaned when he slipped out. He wished he had had a second to enjoy it before walking out of the room but he could hear JJ pacing over the line. He walked over to the kitchen and set the coffee maker, giving his throat a moment to wake up before he said, “Okay, what happened?” The other end of the line went dead. “JJ?” 

“It’s… the prototype.” 

Jon stopped. “What about it?”

“I… dropped it.” 

His heart sunk. He looked at the time on the coffee maker and then back at their bedroom door. They had been working on this prototype for a portable MRI for over a year, it was getting transferred to Metropolis in five hours to be displayed at a fundraising gala and if it didn’t work, all of Damian’s hard work would mean absolutely nothing. This was bad. This was really bad. “How bad is it?” he asked not really wanting to know. 

“It’s in tact, but the power supply is shot, I can’t even get it on to access the damage and I’m freaking out.” 

“Okay, calm down,” Jon told him heading back over to their bedroom door. “I’m coming in, just focus on getting it open so we can see what’s going on inside.” He hung up after JJ made a noise of acknowledgment. He got dressed in five minutes flat, not having enough time to worry about his hair. He shoved his glasses on and scribbled out a note for Damian before resetting the coffee maker for his alarm and grabbing his bag. 

JJ was even more of a mess in person. He looked like he had just watched someone die instead of merely dropping a mostly plastic MRI. Jon tried making a joke to lighten the mood but it had already been set to be a gloomy and panicked morning. The front casing had been absolutely shattered leaving the jumbled insides exposed. They decided to take it apart and reassemble, and once it was mostly straightened out, the computer clicked back on and they could see where the damage really was. Fortunately it was a mostly simple fix. Jon was able to reach out an intern in the design department who brought them an older model of the casing, they would have to display the new design next to it on posters. It wasn’t ideal, but it also wasn’t the disaster that they had been expecting. JJ redownloaded the programing as Jon typed up the incident report and updated the notes for Jason, who would be presenting the device, before he helped JJ package it up. The movers came right as they got the last bolts on the packaging. 

The office was already full when he made it back up to their floor. Emails were sent and he had a full day of work still ahead of him. He had a stack of reports to go over and proposals to type out if they got the project funding they needed to move the MRI to mass production. He was on a perpetual hold with a factory receptionist when a paper cup was set in front of him and he looked up to see Damian watching him curiously. His hit mute on his phone and smiled into the kiss that he was offered. 

“Good morning.” Jon grinned at him sleepily and Damian leaned against is desk next to him in the way that Jon had struggled to make seem casual the first day they were 'engaged.'

“I just had the most interesting phone call with Drake," Damian said by way of greeting. 

Jon sighed, waiting for the reprimand that he knew was coming. He picked up his coffee and took off the lid, taking a long swig from it. “And what did Tim have to say?” 

“He said I hired a very resourceful new project manager.” He looked amused when Jon looked back up at him. “Want to walk me through your morning?” 

“At lunch?” he asked, exhaustion starting to wear on him. “I have two more proposals to finish before I can call this a successful day.” 

“It already is a successful day.” Damian told him. “Our project is going to get approved tonight. And we are taking a half day," he told him pushing off of Jon’s desk.

“We are?” he asked confused. 

Damian nodded. “We have appointments," he said easily not bothering to stop and explain as he went back to his own office. It hit Jon exactly what he was talking about. Right. They had to pick a wedding venue today. 

-

There were lots of places in Gotham where you could have a quicky wedding. Small chapels designated for them were scattered around the city and required very little to absolutely no preparation depending on how seedy the affair was. But Damian hadn’t bothered with any of those. They followed the wedding planner that Jon hadn’t known they had through grand hallways and small chapels as she filled them in on their histories and expenses. Damian listened and interejected with questions here and there as Jon sunk further into himself. The weight of what they were about to do finally hit him. He was only able to keep moving forward because Damian was holding his hand. 

The last spot that she took them was small. A rooftop garden that had a crumbling brick archway facing towards the sunset. The planner went over price points with them, but Damian walked over to the arch way and looked out at the city. It was quieter here than it had been at any of the other places. She gave them a moment and Jon approached him slowly, waiting for him to offer what was so deeply on his mind. 

“My parents never got married," Damian said finally, after they had both been quiet for a while. “I never had the chance to ask them why. They were so in love that I never thought to ask… And then I couldn’t. I never thought I would get married either.” He looked over at Jon his eyes dark and serious in a way he hadn’t seen for a long time. “I know what I’m asking of you isn’t fair, But I promise that for the small time I am your husband I will try to make you happy.” He took Jon’s hand as a warmth bloomed in his chest, a feeling he knew entirely too well and it absolutely terrified him. Damian looked like a dark prince against the soft light of the dying day, looking so sincerely at him that in that moment Jon would have done anything he asked of him. Even out of that moment Jon wasn't sure that he could say no. He swallowed against the emotion threatening to break through and did his best to school his expression as Damian sank onto his knee in front of him. “Jonathan Kent. Will you marry me, here?”

His heart jumped into his throat. It took everything he had to not tell Damian and ruin the moment. To say that he didn’t want to marry him. He didn’t want to live with him. He wanted to go all way way back to the first day that they met and turn down the job as his assistant so that he could go back to seeing him as the hot serious guy in the office. Back to where it wouldn’t have been too inappropriate to ask him out for coffee. And dinner. So that he could have learned about him the normal way. Where he wouldn’t have to tell himself that every kiss was for show and that Damian was only curling into him because he was asleep. Jon wanted to ask Damian to his grandmother’s birthday because he was ready to tell his parents that this was the boy he intended to marry and when Damian got down on one knee, it wouldn’t be out of guilt. It would be because he was overwhelmed with the feelings that were bubbling up in Jon now. 

But he hadn’t done any of that. 

Their story was already written and the only thing that Jon said was, “Y-yes.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have story requests, questions or just want to say hello-- follow DNA and I on twitter at [@PBrubbs](https://twitter.com/PBrubbs) and [@Dnawhite51](https://twitter.com/Dnawhite51) and see the process of our day to day writing frustrations.


	6. Chapter 6

"Do you want us to pick you up?" Jon asked as he walked through the living room with another box that had been hastily shoved in the gym when Jon had first moved in. He set it down next to Damian and settled back on the couch. 

"We could send a car," Damian offered. Jon relayed the message when Lois shook off his offer to pick them up. 

"Really mom. The airport is hell. Just let us send a car. You'll just have to pick up your bags, then bam. You're on your way."

Damian straightened the shelf of books and grabbed the next few out of the box beside him. 

"Ma." Jon looked over to him and grinned. "Yeah. Damian's like crazy ass rich. He can afford to send someone pick you up. You think a car is crazy. Wait until you see our apartment. There is a theater. With a projector." 

He smiled at the bookshelf as Jon continued to talk about  _ their _ apartment. They'd been working for the last few days on making it actually look like it was theirs and not just Damian's. They'd done the theater after work a few days ago. It hadn't taken much. Jon had added a shelf of his own movies and games, and a blanket that Martha had made Jon when he was a kid. Jon had bought a few movie posters to hang, so the walls weren't completely empty. 

He didn't think spending his entire Saturday unpacking Jon's stuff was the most exciting day, but they were running out of time. When Lois had called, Jon had been going through pictures trying to decide which ones to hang so it didn't look so much like a hotel as Jon insisted it did. 

Jon snickered. He turned and saw him hold up a picture of Damian. "Oh nothing Ma. Just laughing at Damian. Yeah. Talk to Pa I guess, but really if you want to make it to your hotel that night I'd let us send a car." Jon rolled his eyes. "I love you too." 

"Okay. How old were you?" Jon asked. He looked at the picture. He was holding a grumpy looking cat up next to his face and the cats body stretched nearly to the ground. There were three bright red claw marks across his cheek, but that hadn't stopped him from smiling ear to ear as he showed his mom his new best friend. 

"Maybe six. I think that's in Germany." 

"I want this one."

Jon flipped to the next photo in the stack. 

"Your mom was beautiful," Jon said in a quiet voice. He glanced over his shoulder. He set the books in his hand down and sat next to Jon. The picture was out of focus and crooked, probably taken by Damian, but his mom was on the phone standing on their balcony. She was smiling at the camera and the wind had caught her hair. 

"I didn't know I had that," he said. Jon handed over the picture when he reached for it. Their camera had broken during their next move and they'd never gotten another one. He wished that they had. He had been left with only his memories and a photo strip to remember his parents by. 

"We could frame it," Jon offered carefully. 

"It's a terrible photo." 

"No, it's not. She looks happy. I think that's all that matters." He handed the photo back to Jon. 

"Okay. If you want." 

They went through a few more of the photos in the sleeve. Pictures of places and Damian holding random animals up for his mom to snap a picture with. 

"Damian, is that a-" Jon snickered. "Is that a possum?" 

"I thought it was a cat okay? It was eating the cat food I'd left on the sidewalk." He could still remember his mom's look of surprise when he'd walked into her office to show her his new favorite thing. She'd taken the picture then had hurried him outside and told him that his friend was an outside cat and it wouldn't be happy in their house. It wasn't until he was in college that he found out he'd caught a possum. 

Jon laughed and Damian huffed as he went back to the boxes of books and trinkets. Jon hadn't yet said anything about the bedroom, but he knew that he should move some things out into the living room. The kitchen was Jon's, he could see him in the room, the theater and the living room was theirs, their things mixed together and looked like they belonged. But the bedroom was Damian's. Jon's clothes were folded in a drawer, his shirts and jackets hung in the closet, but that was it. Damian finished putting the last of the books on the shelf and headed for the bedroom. 

He stared at the shelves around the room. His entire childhood was on his walls like a museum exhibit. [On left Male figure. 1999. Nepal. This piece was donated to us by the original owner who received the item at a bazaar that he attended on his birthday with his father. It was a prized piece of his collection due to the rarity and the fact that it had been the first birthday he'd spent with his father.] 

He didn't know how long he stood there looking at his room. 

"D?" Jon touched his wrist. "We don't have to change anything in here." 

He blinked and looked at Jon then the shelves. "No. It's fine." He didn't know what to move. What belonged there and what could go out on the shelves in the living room. 

"You know that I've lived here for almost a month and you haven't told me where you got any of these?" Jon said his voice forcefully light. "I feel like a fiancé would know." 

Damian didn't say anything for a moment before stepping over and pointing at the mask on the top shelf. He went through the shelves, giving the story for every item. He hadn't told anyone some of the stories, and Jon seemed to know that. By the end of it his voice was scratchy and he wanted to curl up in the theater and fall asleep to the grand music of one of his dad's westerns. He looked at the room again. 

"I'm hungry. Chinese?" Jon asked with a soft smile. 

"Only if you use chopsticks," Damian replied. They ended up in the theater Jon curled on the chair next to him while they ate their dinner and watched a cartoon Jon had been horrified that he'd never seen before. 

When he got out of the shower a few of the shelves had been rearranged, but as he looked at what remained it was the important things. Things that reminded him of his parents, things that made the rare days when it felt like he'd never catch a full breath because they were gone a little bit easier. When he went out into the living room to look for Jon he was finishing putting them on the shelves. He sat down on the couch and watched him straighten the framed photo of Jon's grandparents where it sat next to Damian's pinocchio. Jon sat down next to him and looked at the shelves and how much more life the room had, even with the bare walls. 

"We should go to bed," Jon urged when Damian's head dropped to Jon's shoulder. 

He watched Jon move from the bathroom to the closet and back before climbing under the covers. The light flicked off. Jon shifted closer to him and he relaxed against his shoulder. 

"Hey Jon?" Jon hummed. "Thanks."

-

Jon shook him awake the next morning. He whined and rolled over, pulling the blanket over his head. They didn't have anywhere to be or anything to do-- he was sleeping in. People weren't meant to wake up as early as Jon did every day. Sleeping in on the weekends was normal. If only he could convince Jon of that. 

"Fine," Jon grumbled. A few minutes later the sound of a hammer echoed through the apartment. Damian stayed in his cocoon for a few pauses between hammering before giving up on sleep and heading out into the living room. Jon had three pictures of them hung up on the wall and was hanging a fourth. Two pictures of Jon as a kid and two of Damian. All four of them had animals in them. Jon was laying upside down on a cow with a huge smile on his face in one of them. He grabbed the blanket off the couch and curled up as he watched Jon. He moved to the other side of the shelves and measured for a few minutes before knocking a nail into the wall. 

The picture was of the two of them. Damian was scowling at the camera and Jon was grinning while he held up bunny ears behind him. He didn't have to ask where Jon had gotten it. Stephanie had whined for weeks that her most popular picture was of Damian. 

The next was of the two of them at the retreat the year before. They'd won at volleyball even though Damian had served every single ball into the net. Jon had his arm draped over him as he cheesed so hard at the camera his eyes were closed. Damian wasn't frowning exactly, but he didn't look as happy as he'd remembered feeling. 

The next was crooked, and Damian wanted to fix it, but Jon was already hammering for the next one so he let it sit. It was of them again. He hadn't ever thought there were that many pictures of them together. It was cropped. He could see someone's elbow in the top corner. They must have been in the background of the original photo. They were working, blueprints spread out on the table in front of them. Jon was pointing to something with a concentrated scowl on his face and Damian was hiding a smile behind his cup of coffee. Jon straightened the frame as Damian looked at the last one. 

They were on a plane, Damian was asleep on Jon's shoulder, his hands wrapped around his arm. Jon was smiling softly at the camera as he caught the two of them. They must have been on their way back from Smallville. He looked at the framed photos and could see the story, the growth of their imaginary relationship. 

"I framed a few of my family for the shelves. And I got this for you." It was an 8x10 of his mom. The blur of the photo looked almost intentional as he stared at it. Jon headed into the hallway talking about how they should have bought the painting of the banana that he saw on their way home, that it would have fit perfectly in the kitchen, while Damian stared at the photos and had to remind himself that this wasn't real. He looked down at his mom smiling at him and gripped the edges of the frame a little tighter. This was a show, pretend, and in a year the walls would go back to their plain white and it would be okay. He wouldn't even notice the holes Jon had left. 

-

**JK:** My mom is picking us up at 5. I told her you were in a meeting and didn't know when you'd be done, but she ignored me. 

**DW:** It's fine. Fox is finishing up now. I should be free in 15.

Todd made eye contact with him when he looked up from his phone. A question clear in his eyes. He shook his head and looked back at Fox as she finished and closed the report. 

"Does anyone need anything from Damian?" Drake asked. "Today is your last chance. The next two weeks you're answering to me directly." Tim smiled and he saw someone grimace out of the corner of his eye. He'd heard from everyone that they were dreading his vacation. It wasn't that Drake was any more demanding, if anything Damian was. They were intimidated by the fact that this man was the one that signed their checks and had final say over whether you continued working there. Damian hadn't ever understood it, but he'd worked with Drake back when the lab had been an overcrowded warehouse and he wore science pun tee shirts to work every day. To him the man was as far from intimidating as could be. 

"Looks like you're free," Drake said with a shrug. He coughed to hide the laugh that bubbled up. Damian had pushed Jon off the couch the night before when they were folding laundry and he'd handed Jon the sock he'd needed and Jon had started sobbing with joy. Jon had just laid on the floor shouting  _ 'Master has given Dobby a sock' _ over and over until Damian had thrown a second sock at him. Harry Potter had been the first of the movies on Jon's 'frankly depressing' list of movies Damian had never seen. 

Jon was sitting at Brown's desk when they stepped out of the conference room. She was going through one of her cabinets as they chatted. Jon waved and he waved back staring at his hand. Why were they waving at each other?

"Adorable," Todd whispered as he passed him. He glared at him and dropped his hand. 

"Your mom's waiting right?" he asked and grabbed Jon's hand. Drake and Todd were looking at them, he could see Todd say something to Drake as the elevator doors shut. Todd had been insufferable since he had gotten his wedding invitation. Lois was talking to the security guard when they got to the lobby. She didn't look upset that she was stuck in the lobby, but laughed with the guard. He envied her and Jon's ability to talk to anyone they met. 

Lois saw them and excused herself before pulling Jon into a tight hug, then doing the same to Damian. Jon held the door open as they stepped out and took Damian's hand while they walked down the street. Lois coming to pick them up turned out to be just walking with them back to their apartment. 

" _ Hafid. _ "

Damian stopped and turned. The man that had spoken was watching him intently. He'd only ever seen pictures of the man. His hair had more gray that the photo, the thick sideburns framing his face had been completely taken over by it. He watched as eyes that looked so much like his mother's dropped to where Jon's fingers were wrapped in his, watched as they narrowed in distaste. He shifted moving to stand between this man who called him grandson and Jon. 

" _ I knew that it was you. You look just like my Talia." _

Damian wanted to shout for him to not talk about his mother. Instead he asked in the calmest voice he could manage,  _ "What are you doing here?"  _

_ "I heard of your wedding. I wanted to save you from making the same mistake that your mother made."  _

_ "Mistake?"  _

_ "She gave up her family. She gave up our legacy and the strength of the Al Ghul name for a boy that would never love her. She left her family and was alone." _

"She wasn't alone." He shook his head. She'd had him. 

_ "But she was. As you will be. There is no honor in this. You are chasing after the whim of an emotion like a fool for what? The heart of this boy?"  _ He spat the word as he gestured at Jon. 

"No," Damian snapped. "No. You have no say in this. No claim over any part of my life. You gave that up years ago. I was Fourteen.  _ Fourteen _ !" He took a sharp breath. "And you, the only family I had left in the world, decided that you didn't want me." He hated that his voice cracked. Hated that after all this time that still hurt. Hated that he was shaking as he stood before this man. "You speak of legacy. Of the power behind the Al Ghul name. You're right. I am Damian Al Ghul, but it was my  _ mother _ that gave me that name. Not you. My mother that showed me that family is your own to create. I'm creating mine. I don't need yours." His grip on Jon's hand had to hurt, but he couldn't let go. "Oh. And I was not a mistake. My father wasn't. He isn't," he nodded to Jon. "Love isn't a mistake. It is an honor to have earned the heart of this  _ boy _ . _ " _

He turned back to Jon and Lois. Lois tugged on Jon's shoulder and they moved down the street. His heart was hammering in his chest. He didn't dare look back. Once they'd finished the block he let his grip on Jon's hand relax and took a slow breath. 

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. 

"No, baby, don't be," Jon muttered and put an arm around him to usher him into their apartment building, mind swimming with what he had just heard. Jon knew enough about Damian's family to piece together that the man was his grandfather even if he couldn't understand what he had said. 

They were quiet in the elevator, Damian leaning his head onto Jon's shoulder as he focused on getting his heart to stop pounding. Damian was shaking and Jon wanted more than anything to tell him that he  _ did _ earn his heart-- but his mother was standing next to them squeezing Damian's hand watching him like she didn't know what to do next. Jon let them into the apartment and Damian apologized again before excusing himself to lay down for a moment. Jon and his mother stood watching him for a minute after the door to the bedroom closed before she finally broke the silence by squeezing his hand and saying, "Are you going to show me around or what?" 

He walked his mom through the apartment going over everything they did over the weekend like it had happened over the course of three years. His mom called over to the hotel to get his father and grandmother to come over and shooed Jon off towards the bedroom as she started on dinner. 

Damian was still in his suit, curled under the blankets with his back to the door. Jon shut the door as quietly as he could and stood for a moment trying to think of something to say. He knew what he should say, that his grandfather wasn’t worth this pain. That his parents wouldn't want him to have this kind of effect on his life and they had worked hard to make sure that he wouldn't be a part of it. But Jon somehow knew that wasn't enough. He was Damian's only family and he had straight out refused to have him. Jon had no idea how that had to feel. Even with things being weird with his dad, he knew that he was loved. That if anything ever happened his father would be there. Damian didn't have that. His eyes were open when Jon made his way around to the other side of the bed, watching him as he sat down on the edge. Jon ran a hand through Damian's hair. "Are you okay?"

Damian thought about it for a moment before shaking his head and forcing a half hearted smile that Jon would have done anything to take away from him. "Can we just pretend for a moment that we are in love so I don't need his approval. 

Jon's heart clenched but he smiled and leaned in to kiss him. He didn't need to pretend as his heart thumped erratically when Damian's hand found the back of his neck. Damian's tongue ran across the edge of his teeth and in a moment the switch flipped and his mind shut off to let his heart take over. He shifted onto his knee, letting his body press against Damian's as he turned his head to deepen the kiss. He could hardly breathe when they pulled apart, foreheads pressed together as Jon whispered, "You are amazing." And, "You are beautiful." And, "We  _ will _ make our own family." And, "I love you." Between kisses until they heard the front door open and the illusion was shattered, breaking them apart. 

Damian excused himself to take a shower and Jon changed into a pair of jeans and one of Damian's shirts before he went back out to greet his family. His mother was quietly filling them in on what had happened when he stepped out of the room. They were all smiles, save his father, when Jon walked in and they fussed over him. 

"Damian should be out in just a minute," he promised when his grandmother looked over his shoulder for him. "He had a, uh, rough day." 

"Then let's make it a better evening," Martha said patting Jon's cheek when Damian finally stepped into the bedroom in lounge pants and a plain grey shirt, his hair still damp from the shower. "There's my boy." She grinned pushing Jon into his father so that she could get to Damian. "My god you are so skinny," she fussed over him. "Does Jon even feed you?"

"He feeds me," he assured her, a little of the coolness warming in his eyes as he looked up at him. Jon straightened himself and stepped away from his father, both of them awkwardly looking anywhere but each other. 

Martha tisked him and pulled Damian towards the kitchen, "Well I'm feeding you now. We only have a week to get you wedding ready, and you aren't walking down the aisle skin and bones."

They listened to Martha, Lois, and Damian debate the pros and cons of matching suits, none of them stopping to ask what Jon would want-- which he didn't really mind. He did the dishes when they finally settled on matching suits and Lois made appointments for the next morning. He left them in the kitchen when they moved onto local florists and went to pick out a movie in the theater. 

He was going through the shelves wondering if his mom would be in a romcom mood or more of a drama when the door pushed open and his dad pushed in. "Did they settle on flowers?" Jon asked trying to keep calm, fluffing an already perfectly fluffed pillow. 

"Not even close," Clark told him with a little laugh, but his smile faded the longer that Jon stared at him. 

Jon dropped the pillow back into the couch and stuffed his hands into his pocket to keep him from fidgeting too much. The silence encroached upon them until he couldn't handle it anymore. 

"Is, uh, everything alright, Pa?" Clark cleared his throat as he shook his head staring at the ground. He ran an arm under his nose and Jon took a step closer. "Pa?"

Clark took a moment to gather himself and when he looked up his eyes were wet and he looked sadder than he had ever seen him. "Your Ma called me when we were on the way over and told me about your run in today. Damian's grandfather?" He guessed. Jon nodded and Clark sighed, sitting down on the couch and after a long moment Jon followed suit. "When you came to Smallville, Damian told me he'd never met his grandfather before. He actually told me a lot of things." He looked up at Jon and swallowed. "Things about you, and I thought I was angry about it, because this person I never met knew my own son better than I did." 

Jon's throat felt tight and he reached out for his father's hand. "Pa… you don't-"

"Please let me get through this," he said softly and Jon bit back on what he was going to say. "I never want you to think that I don't want you. Or that I am not proud of you, because believe me Jon, I am a whole world's worth of proud. You've always been so smart and kind and your heart is so big that I used to be afraid that it would break you. And when I saw you with Damian after all of the years of girlfriends, of people you obviously brought around for my benefit… well I guess I realised that maybe I was the one who was breaking that big heart of yours." He squeezed Jon's hand. "I don't want to make excuses for what I said, but I was scared that I didn't know you. You, who I made from scratch." He reached up and wiped a tear off of Jon's cheek. Jon hadn't even noticed he was crying. "I want the chance to get to know you again. And I want to know that happier real you. Because you'll always be my best bud, no matter who you love."

Jon hugged his dad for what felt like a really long time, feeling like his entire world was now falling into place. And for a brief second he thought about telling his dad everything. The fake marriage and his real feelings and how freaked out he was, but he couldn't. Not when this truce was so new. His dad was smiling when they finally pulled away and he made eyes at the grandness of the theater. "We don't have one of these back in Smallville." 

Jon snorted and wiped his eyes. "We don't even have a theater in Smallville."

His dad feigned an offended look as he got up and walked over to the wall of movies. "We have the drive in," he reminded his son. 

"They patched the screen with an old bedsheet," Jon shot back and Clark laughed scanning the shelves. 

He stopped when he got to the western section. Jon and Damian had bickered for almost a full day about how they should organize their ridiculously vast collection until they finally decided on genre. His dad smiled when he saw how many there were. "You hate westerns," he accused his son, remembering the years of his demanding fantasy movies from his poor father. 

"Damian loves them," he admitted remembering the little swirl of sympathy and love that ran through him the first time they talked about it. "He used to watch them with his dad."

His father nodded taking that in as he picked out his favorite movie,  _ Rio Bravo _ . "I think Damian has officially earned my approval," he muttered and demanded Jon show him how to make the projector work. They spent the first part of the movie talking. Now that they had started, they couldn't seem to stop. His dad asked him about all of the girls he'd brought over and if he knew then. And they talked about what that was like, growing up in Smallville knowing he was different. And then they talked about Damian, how they met and how he had finally hooked him. He and Damian had been over the story a thousand times, but now that he was actually saying it out loud it felt so real. He couldn't stop smiling and talking with his hands. And after everything was said they mused about what the wedding would be like and what they were deciding in the other room. 

Damian was shaking him awake as the credits rolled, his mother standing close behind him looking like she might just cry. He pulled his head off of his father's shoulder and accepted the kiss offered to him with a sleepy smile. "Did we get everything decided?" He asked. 

"Almost," Damian promised with that smile that would destroy him. "C'mon, it's time for bed."

They said goodnight to his family who promised to be back in the morning, this time Jon got a hard hug from his father and he gave Damian's shoulder a tight squeeze on the way out. The door closed, and before Jon could lose his nerve, he kissed Damian. He made a noise of surprise but let Jon walk him back into the wall anyway, as he ran his hands up his back. "What… what was that for?" He asked when Jon finally let go of him. 

"Thank you," he said, "For whatever you said to my Pa in Smallville. Just…" He didn't even know what to say, he just knew that there was still so much that needed to be said. So he kissed him again, softer this time and smiled. "If you think I'm bad in the morning, wait till you spend three days with my family in planning mode. Let's go to bed."

-

Damian woke up to the smell of something sweet in the air and laughter. His parents smiled at him from the bedside table and he touched the corner of the frame before sitting up. The bedroom door was cracked, but now that he was listening, he could hear the Kents joking with each other. He sat there, listening to them and remembering the feel of Jon in his arms as they fell asleep the night before. 

"Yeah, yeah. I'll get him. Hold your horses," Jon called from just outside the door. "Oh hey, you're up. You joining us for breakfast or you just going to sit there?" He turned to check his phone, but Jon caught his wrist. "No. No phone today." He turned back to him and blinked. "Come on." 

It took him two cups of coffee and half of the stack of pancakes for his first word of the day to be uttered, a quiet 'green' when Martha and Lois started bickering about tie colors. 

"There he is," Jon said with too soft smile. He pushed him away and went back to his pancakes. "We don't have to match, green and blue." Jon quirked a smile as if asking if he agreed. 

"You're wearing the same suit," he told him. Jon had been campaigning for them to wear completely different suits all breakfast. "But the tie can be blue. It'll match your eyes." He saw Jon's eyes widen slightly before he turned to tell his mom to stop laughing. 

"Has Jon shown you pictures of the venue?" 

"No. He said it was a surprise," Lois replied with a frown at her son. 

"You'll see it at the rehearsal," Jon told her. 

They talked about wedding details for the rest of breakfast. 

-

The only thing that their wedding planner had left completely to them was their suits. He already knew what he wanted, but Jon had seen the price tag a few days before and had insisted that they look at more options. He was glad that Jon hadn't seen how much he was spending to have their suits made by their wedding. 

He stepped out in a crimson crushed velvet suit and frowned at Jon who was snickering into his hand. Lois was trying so hard to smile and tell him how nice he looked, but he could see her barely concealed cringe. 

"All I'm missing is a beard and a bag of gifts," he deadpanned. Jon's laughter broke free. 

"Who thought white piping would be a good idea?" Lois chimed. 

He wasn't sure why it was him that was trying on all of the suits that he knew they wouldn't be picking, but he was. Jon had mumbled something about wanting to see what they looked really looked like and not in a mirror. 

"I might get one of these for work," he said stepping out in a forest green suit. He unbuttoned it and shifted his arms before looking at the Kents. Jon was staring at him and looked dumbstruck as he stared.

"What do you think Jon?" Martha asked with a grin. 

"Oh. Yeah. No. Not special enough," Jon managed with a cough. 

Damian smiled as he walked back into the fitting room. He was definitely getting one. A few suits passed with the same lackluster response. He put the next one on and stomped out. "I'm drawing the line here."

"You look like an angry Easter egg," Jon said cackling as he slumped against his dad. He caught sight of his glare above the pastel yellow and could see the resemblance. 

"Jon, try on the suit. Please?" He didn't know if it was the please, the pathetic look he knew he had on his face, or the hideous yellow, but Jon nodded and got to his feet. 

He half expected Jon to make a show of walking out in the suit that Damian had been picturing for the last two weeks. Jon fiddled with the button as he looked at himself in the mirror. He knew the price tag was what had the unsure look on his face. He stepped up and straightened his collar trying not to think about their audience. 

"It's better than I'd imagined." He caught Jon's fingers before they could pull the button off with his fidgeting. "Let me do this for you. You're already doing so much for me." His voice was barely more than a whisper.

"Okay," Jon finally agreed. Damian smiled.

They got their measurements confirmed and Damian double checked that they'd have the ready the next evening. The clerk had agreed and wished them a good day. 

Only Clark was still waiting in the shop. Lois had already dragged Jon down the street in search of a place to eat. They fell in step as they followed the trio. 

"I am sorry about how I acted when you came to visit." Damian looked over to Clark, surprised by the break in the silence. "You were right and I was acting like a fool. But I'm glad that he found you." He looked at Jon walking with his mom and couldn't help but smile. 

"I am too," he replied. 

"I thought that if it was okay with you I would keep you company on Saturday." 

Damian didn't know what to say. He hadn't wanted to ask, to make anyone feel obligated to miss out on Jon's nervous chatter, but he'd been dreading sitting in that room by himself. "I--" he cleared his throat. "I think I'd like that."

Martha called for them to hurry up. 

-

The next morning he woke with his face shoved into Jon's back and the sound of his phone ringing. He whined and held on tighter when Jon started shifting. 

"No phones."

"D. It's my mom."

"Don't answer it," he said with a yawn. "We don't have to be anywhere until 2." 

Jon twisted in his arms. He studied his goofy grin, even though it was almost too close to see. Jon kissed his nose and, when he wiped at it, slipped free. "I'll be right back." He closed his eyes and listened to him talk to Lois through the bathroom door. 

Jon climbed back in and Damian pulled him in. "They are picking us up at 1."

He faked a cheer and pushed his face further into Jon as he yawned. 

-

The venue was a hit. Martha started crying and then her crying made Lois tear up. Damian watched in amazement as they stood under the arches and held onto each other and cried about how beautiful it was. Jon was talking to Clark about something in the back. Damian drifted back to them, but was caught by the planner. She called out to Jon and insisted that they come inside to look at some of the set ups. 

They spent the afternoon making the final decisions and walking through the ceremony. He faced Jon as Martha babbled gibberish at them with a mischievous smile. His heart ached as he looked at Jon as he smiled at Martha. He knew it would be worse the next day, so he focused on breathing and smiling. 

He tried to take them out to dinner, but they ended up getting pizzas and eating back at the apartment. Martha told stories about her wedding. Clark told Lois she'd looked beautiful in her dress to which Lois replied that she had been the size of a minivan. Clark's smile hadn't seemed to care at all. They continued telling stories about the different weddings they had all gone to well into the night until it was time to leave.

He'd been dreading it. Jon had mentioned the tradition of staying apart the night before, and he couldn't really object even though he wanted to. 

Martha objected enough for him. She complained that Damian shouldn't have to be alone, but Clark was guiding her down the hall. Lois followed after them. He watched them stop by the elevator and then looked to Jon, who was standing in the doorway like he didn't want to leave either. 

"Last chance to back out." Damian tried to smile, but couldn't as he met Jon's eyes. 

Jon frowned and shook his head as he pulled him in for a hug. "No. That was back in Tim's office. You're stuck with me now." He clung to Jon's back. Jon pulled away and he felt a ghost of a touch on his cheek. "I'll see you in the morning." 

"Goodnight." 

Damian moved around the apartment as he got ready for bed. He washed the dishes they'd used for dessert a few hours ago and straightened the towels on the oven handle. He walked room to room and looked at every thing that they'd created. He showered and set his alarm, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn't fall asleep. The bed was too empty, too cold. The room was too quiet. He grabbed his phone and hit dial. 

"D? You okay?" Jon asked. He didn't sound like he'd been sleeping either. 

"I know it's stupid, but I can't sleep." 

"It's not stupid," Jon was whispering and he knew he wasn't alone in the hotel room, but nevertheless he was still talking to Damian. "Close your eyes." Damian could hear the faint echo as he did as he was told. He must have moved to the bathroom. "You just finished reading an update from JJ about his favorite coffee shops ranked by amount of whipped cream." He snorted. "It's been a long day so you take your shower and don't dry your hair so it still smells like coconuts." He relaxed into the pillows. "I'm probably already asleep, but it doesn't matter. I wake up just enough to tug you in close." He could almost feel Jon's arms as he listened to him breathe in his ear. "You're warm from your shower, but you still curl against me." He felt his attention drifting. "I love the way you feel in my arms," Jon whispered. 

"I love you," Damian breathed as sleep claimed him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have story requests, questions or just want to say hello-- follow DNA and I on twitter at [@PBrubbs](https://twitter.com/PBrubbs) and [@Dnawhite51](https://twitter.com/Dnawhite51) and see the process of our day to day writing frustrations.


	7. Chapter 7

Jon walked back into the hotel room feeling like he was on the moon, every step a bigger one than he had ever intended. Each step toward Damian pulled him into an orbit that he knew he'd never escape from. He knew that he had heard him correctly, that Damian had said that he loved him, even if he hadn't been awake to repeat or defend himself. Jon was floating as he pulled the bathroom door shut, tiptoeing back to the fold out couch that had been made up for him. 

He stared up at the ceiling and replayed those words.  _ I love you _ . Over and over until they felt real again and he didn't tell himself that he was marrying Damian because they had to. Tomorrow they would be getting married because Damian loved him, and Jon loved Damian too. 

It felt like he had just closed his eyes when his family's whispering stirred him and he opened his eyes. His mother and Grandmother were pointing and looking like they could explode with happiness while his father grinned at him. Jon yawned and pushed himself upright, confused and exhausted. "What?" He croaked when his father pointed at his phone, plugged in and on the pillow next to him, still displaying the seven hour call to his fiancé. 

Jon snatched it up and jammed the call end button, his entire body turning bright red while his mother and grandmother cooed at him. 

"He- he couldn't sleep," he grumbled under his breath pushing them away. "We didn't break any rules."

"Of course not," his grandmother sighed dreamily and pulled him out of bed. "Now come on, we have a big day ahead of us."

-

Jon convinced his father to go get breakfast with them before he headed back to their apartment to start getting Damian ready knowing that sleeping in would do wonders for his husband to be. They ended up staying at the diner until around eleven telling stories about Jon's old girlfriends and listening to new ones about boyfriends he'd had before Damian until his mother reminded them that they had appointments to keep. His father waved them off as Jon was dragged into the city to a small spa close to his work. His mother told the receptionist that they had reservations under the name Al Ghul. Just another extravagant surprise from Damian. He tried not to be weird about how much it must have cost him as he spent the afternoon getting rubbed and plucked and groomed until he felt like an entirely new person. 

Jon knew that he wasn't bad looking. People had been interested in him before and JJ told him all the time what a  _ specimen _ he was. But Damian had always been this whole other level of attractive. He was perfect, not a hair out of place not a blemish on his skin, in his suits that were always made just for him. Looking at himself in his suit, wearing contacts and his hair finally tamed- it was the first time that he felt like he could stand next to Damian and look like he belonged there. Lois was crying. He tried to soothe her but she insisted that he just looked  _ so grown up _ and she would be fine. 

His mother and grandmother fussed over him for twenty minutes before Martha pulled Lois out of the room insisting that this was the last chance they had to put the fear of God into their new son. He couldn't sit down as he listened to the few guests they had invited chatting above. He pulled out his vows and read them through for a fifth time when there was a knock on the door and his father stepped in. 

Clark grinned at his son, holding him at an arm's length so that he could take him in. "Look at you," he said, voice a little gruff as he hugged him. "You nervous?" 

Jon swallowed wondering how much he could say. "A little bit," he admitted trying not to fidget. "How's Damian?"

"He's anxious," his dad said and then laughed when Jon's eyes widened. He pat his arm. "I think it's more about not seeing you for a day than the whole getting married bit. You have nothing to worry about kiddo," he promised. "But, before you head out there, I have something for you." Jon watched as his dad dug around in his pockets until he pulled out a little black box. "I know that you already picked out rings, but I never saw Damian with an engagement ring and well, I just thought…" he trailed off as he gave the box to his son. 

Jon opened the box, a bold white gold band that was newly sized and polished looking up at him. "Pa?" 

Clark cleared his throat. "That was your grandfather's wedding ring. He and your grandmother were married for 40 years and I thought, well, maybe you'd get some luck from it." 

He was speechless. Jon had seen this ring almost every day growing up, first on his grandfather and then around his grandmother's neck after he passed. He'd never thought that she would take it off, but here it was, now Jon's to give away. And he suddenly really needed Damian to have it right then. "Pa, do you mind if I?" He nodded towards the door. 

Clark grinned at him. "Don't let your mother see you," he warned him. Jon nodded before he slipped out the door. 

The crowd was small enough that he didn't run into anyone he wasn't supposed to see on his way through the entry and down the second hallway that came out at the stairs to the roof. He listened at the door for a moment until he was positive that he couldn't hear his family before he knocked and a gruff, "Come in," granted him access. 

Damian looked like a model. His dark eyebrows perfectly holding his eyes that were highlighted by the green of his tie. He looked up from fidgeting with his cufflinks and immediately threw a hand over his eyes. "What are you doing?" He demanded. "We aren't supposed to see each other." But as he said it his cheeks filled with a red heat and Jon couldn't help grinning at him. 

"Then keep your eyes shut," he told Damian as he walked over to him. He took Damian's right hand and felt the shiver trail all the way up his body. In that moment it took everything in him to stop himself asking if it was real. If Damian had meant what he'd said the night before and if this was  _ more _ to him too. But he couldn't do it. Not if it meant that he would risk losing this, and he wanted this day to go well so badly. So that no matter what, at least this would always be a good memory. 

"I just wanted to give you something," Jon muttered and pulled the ring out of his pocket. He slipped it onto Damian's right hand, having moved his own engagement ring over that morning, and watched at he frowned at the sensation. "This was my grandfather's," Jon told him. "He was my hero growing up. He was always so kind and open and told me I could be whoever I wanted to be. And when he died, it was hard for me to get back to that. But doing this with you… I have felt more like myself than I have in such a long time. Will you wear it? For me?" He asked. Damian swallowed and nodded and Jon kissed his hand. "I'll see you at the altar," he promised and left before he could lose his nerve. 

Jon waited in the hallway as the wedding planner ushered everyone into their seats and cued up the music. She waved him forward and he took a step out just like they had practiced. Damian was standing in the arch of the hallway across from him. They looked into each other and through each other, and when the song cued for their entrance they both stepped out to the middle, joined hands and walked down the aisle. He could only hear his own breathing. His heart pounding somewhere in his throat to keep him focused, but everything else was drowned out by lights and the black spots in his vision. But he knew that Damian was there, the heat of his hand alone giving Jon enough energy to move forward until they were at the altar and everything but he and Damian fell away. They faced each other, hands clasped between them as the officiant went over the opening, talking about their relationship like it was the love story of the century-- and Jon wanted it to be. 

"And now I believe that the couple has prepared their own vows." The officiant nodded kindly to Jon telling him that it was time to put on the show. 

Jon fumbled with the paper he had ripped out of his portfolio and couldn't help the small smile that quirked up his lips as they chuckled at him. He looked at Damian, reminding himself that this was for him, not anyone else and started. "Everyone told me not to move to Gotham." He cleared his throat as everyone chuckled again. "My mom was convinced I would get murdered my first night and my Dad was afraid that it would 'suck the sunshine outta me.'" Jon rolled his eyes and Damian grinned at him. "But I knew that I had to be here. I just didn't know why, until I met you." He put the paper back in his pocket and took Damian's hands again. "If you will have me, I will take care of you. I will be strong for you when you feel your weakest. I will hold you every night when we go to sleep, watch westerns with you when you are sad, teach you how to cook so that you can take care of yourself should the apocalypse come." Another laugh bubbled through the crowd and Jon smiled, squeezing Damian's hand willing him to feel that this was real for him, and he could have it if he wanted it. "But most importantly, I promise that I will love you until I breath my last." He ran his thumb over his grandfather's ring, "And maybe a little bit after that."

Damian looked at Jon for a few moments before closing his eyes. He'd gone over his vows to many times over the past few hours that he didn't think he'd ever forget them. Jon's hands squeezed his fingers and he opened his eyes. He gave Jon a nervous smile. 

"My mother believed in fate. She believed that nothing bad ever happened because every bad thing only led you to the next good moment. And if you had grown up around my parents you'd have believed that as well." 

Jon rubbed his thumb over the back of his hand. He looked down at their hands and back up to Jon's eyes. "After my parents-- I cursed fate. I cursed love. I didn't want to let myself get hurt like that ever again.

"That was before I met you. Before you called me rude. Before you made every day better with just a cup of coffee. Before you told me I was crazy for only having one plate. Before you hated my taste in movies. Before that smile," he brushed a finger against Jon's cheek, "brought light back into my life. Before you reminded me what having a family felt like.

"Fate has not always been kind to me, but it's managed to give me a love like I'd wanted since I was little. A love like my parents'. A love that I'd give up everything for." He took a breath and swallowed past the thickness in his throat. "I can't promise I won't be rude. Or grumpy. You know my thoughts on mornings. Or make you spend all day watching my dad's movies. I can't promise that there won't be times when I wake you up in the middle of the night because I read an article and need to talk to someone about it. 

"But I can promise that you'll always be the first person I want to talk to. I can promise that I'll never change shampoos because I know you love the smell. I can promise to never get any better at cooking. I know it reminds you of home. And I can promise that I will always be there for you. I'll always fight for you and I'll keep earning your heart."

He ignored the burning in his eyes to meet Jon's. He jumped when the officiant addressed Jon. As Jon smiled at him and repeated the two words that sealed everything he felt his heart seize in his chest. The words of the man standing at his side was a blur. He looked across at Jon and knew he wanted this to last forever. He'd wanted this longer than he wanted to admit, but when Jon's smile faltered as the silence stretched he wondered if Jon didn't want it too. 

"I do," Damian breathed and felt a bubble of nervous energy break across the crowd. They exchanged rings, and Damian stared at the simple band on his finger. Jon touched his jaw and he looked up. 

"Kiss me, husband." 

Claps erupted around them. He pulled away to laugh against Jon's shoulder. Then kissed him again before they walked back down the aisle. 

He stared at his ring as they sat waiting for the reception. Jon bumped his shoulder. "You okay?" 

"I'm great." He looked over a Jon. "We're married."

"I know. I was there." 

He looked down at his ring, then Jon's amused face. He pulled Jon in and kissed him, climbing over the arms of the chairs they were sitting in until he was straddling Jon's lap. "Chairs were a stupid idea," he mumbled and sucked in a breath before kissing Jon again. He wanted to get Jon out of the suit. As his hands reached the button of his jacket he heard someone's throat being cleared. He turned as Jon peeked over his shoulder. Georgia looked amused. She'd probably walked in on worse before. 

"They are ready for you. I'll give you a few minutes." 

He stood up and straightened his jacket. Jon's hair was starting to curl, his fingers had ruined the salon's work. He pulled on one of the curls. Jon caught his hand. They walked out to the cheers of their guests. Every time he touched a fork someone walked up to them. He'd eaten exactly two bites of food when a chant went out for their first dance. 

He'd let Jon pick the song, and as the guitar started playing he stifled a laugh against Jon's shoulder. A few weeks ago they had been arguing over what food they would deny even if they were starving on a deserted island. Jon had ranted for a good five minutes about soup and how it's a food but you drink it. When he had suddenly stopped and asked Damian. He'd replied with peaches. Jon had been horrified and had talked about his grandma's peach cobbler like eating it was a religious experience. Damian had finally told him that the tiny hairs made him feel like he was eating a baby's head. Jon had stopped stared at him for a few beats then started laughing. So as the song requested a peach from Old Georgia Damian couldn't help but laugh. Jon kept them moving, but he was laughing too. 

"Were there no songs about soup?" he asked. 

"My mom vetoed it. She barely approved this one." 

"It's perfect," he replied and leaned against his shoulder. 

Jon danced with Lois and Martha surprised Damian by asking him as the chorus starting. He listened to her tell him how handsome they were and how beautiful the wedding was while he watched Jon barely not cry while he danced with his mom.

Jason stole Jon away after a free for all of Shout. He stood by their table and was tempted to grab the plate and start shoving food in his mouth when Clark walked up to him. Their morning had been mostly quiet, Clark was steady for him to fall back on when his nerves rattled his skin, but now he felt those nerves returning. 

"I know that we'll never replace your parents, but welcome to the family." Clark hugged him, a tight embrace that made him feel like a child again. He wrapped shaky arms around him. It reminded him of his dad. He'd always been larger than life and had hugged him like it might be the last time so he had to make sure that Damian knew how much he was loved. Every time he'd squeeze just a little tighter before letting go as Clark did. 

"I'm sorry," he said wiping at his eyes. Clark shook his head and offered him his pocket square. He glanced around the room at all of the people and knew he didn't want to have to talk to anyone else, to smile. It was a happy day and he wanted to spend it with Jon. Who was weaving through people on his way to them. 

"We should get out of here." 

He was a little surprised by how urgent he sounded, but agreed. 

"Bye Pa. Ma's over by the bar. Tell everyone thank you?" Clark smiled and rubbed more of the product from Jon's hair. 

"Get out of here. Have a safe trip." 

"Oh God. We're flying again." 

"I got you a sleeping mask and dramamine. We're ready."

They stopped for food on the way to the airport. He devoured his noodles and didn't look up until he'd finished. Jon was watching him, his own food barely touched, when he glanced up. 

"I was hungry. Now eat. We've got a flight to catch." 

They had three flights to catch. Their layover in Central City had them sprinting across the concourse and still barely making it to the gate as they started boarding the last group. He was so worked up from their race against time that he'd barely noticed their gentle movements through the runways until the lights dimmed and Jon grabbed his hand. He touched the wedding band on his finger and closed his eyes. 

Damian did sleep for most of their last flight. The ocean beneath them was too much. He woke up to Jon giggling as he watched a movie and butted his head against his shoulder. Jon pulled out an ear bud and offered it to him. They spent the next half hour watching the movie as Damian struggled to stay awake. 

"So where are we going first?" 

"A volcano. Well the hotel, then a volcano." 

"No beach, or pool. Just straight up fire mountain." 

"I've never been to a volcano before. Did you know that Hawaii has the world's largest volcano?" 

"Did you really pick our honeymoon for the volcano?" 

"I thought you'd like the beaches and sun too," Damian offered. "And the hotel room has an amazing view." 

"Of a volcano?" 

He poked Jon who laughed. 

Damian flipped through the movie options without lifting his head from Jon's shoulder. He felt Jon tense a few times. He'd been trying to ask him a question for most of their trip, but kept changing his mind. Damian hadn't pushed, too overwhelmed to give it much thought. Jon grabbed his hand. 

"We should have sex," Jon blurted. 

"Okay," he replied as Jon continued with "You know for legal reasons." He looked at him for a moment. And Jon looked back. 

"Wait. Did you just say yes?" 

"What legal reasons?" Damian asked with a frown. 

Jon felt his face flaming red. He should have waited to say that until he had to convince Damian that it would be a good idea-- but he never expected Damian to out right agree so quickly. 

"W-well I was dancing with Jason and he said something about…" he scratched at the stubble on his cheek as he remembered the way that Jason smirked in his obvious discomfort. "How a marriage isn't technically binding until you… you know." He shrugged. He could feel Damian staring at him and he knew he was blushing a little brighter every second. He wished he had just kept his mouth shut, but now that he had started he couldn't stop. "I mean we kiss all the time anyway and I trust you. If you trust me then I don't see why we shouldn't-"

Damian covered Jon's mouth with his hand and stared at him blankly until he stopped mumbling into his palm. "I trust you, you don't have to convince me," he told him and turned back to the movie list like it was the easiest thing in the world. "But you do know that no one actually checks to see if you have had sex after marriage, right?" 

Jon swallowed and tried to sound nonchalant as he said, "Of course," like he hadn't spent the majority of his life assuming there would be a check up after to see if you were a virgin or not. 

Not that he actually knew if Damian was a virgin. He looked down at his husband, lazily scrolling through the list with his head on Jon's shoulder. Surely he wasn't. He knew that Damian had gone on date before and was positive that if he had ever had the pleasure to go on a normal date with him, getting in his pants would be high on the priority list. He was just too beautiful. And here he was, sitting next to Jon on a plane to their honeymoon, married, and they had only kissed.

His lips were still buzzing from the last one, Damian on his lap in the high backed, plush chair reaching for the button of his jacket. A warmth bloomed in the pit of his stomach and he pulled his hand away to wrap his arm around Damian. He only paused for a moment before selecting some horrible dance movie from the early two thousands. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have story requests, questions or just want to say hello-- follow DNA and I on twitter at [@PBrubbs](https://twitter.com/PBrubbs) and [@Dnawhite51](https://twitter.com/Dnawhite51) and see the process of our day to day writing frustrations.


	8. Chapter 8

It turned out that you could see the volcano from their hotel room. But it was way off in the distance behind a beautiful and inviting white sand beach framed by trees and flowers that Jon had never seen in person before. But even the view wasn't as impressive as their room, which was more like a small house on the secluded edge of the resort. It was light and airy filled with soft white lenones and the softest bed Jon had possibly ever felt. And if that weren't enough, there was a magnificent black baby grand piano in the corner of the room- for the fancy man who just couldn't help but play moonlight sonata bathed in the moonlight. 

Damian ran a hand over it and raised an eyebrow when Jon groaned at him. "If you play piano, I swear I will lose it." 

His husband grinned at him and lifted the lid. "My father played," headmitted, "but he only ever taught me one song, and I wasn't very good as it." He pat the piano bench next to him and Jon joined him wearily, watching as he made a show of cracking his knuckles before playing a very choppy rendition of heart and soul. Jon's heart swelled as he kept missing a note on the trickle down and he pushed his hand aside to play the melody for him. Such a silly song in all of this extravagance having an almost sobering effect in him. 

"Damian?" He asked after they finished the third run through without making any mistakes. He hummed and played chopsticks badly. Jon cleared his throat. "How… how much money did you spend on all of this?" 

Damian frowned and looked around the room before he shrugged. "Not enough to miss," he said finally and smirked at Jon's horrified expression. "Was my answer unsatisfactory?"

Jon shook his head. "It's just so strange to me. You have so much money, I guess I never really thought about it. Not really."

Damian played with the piano again, pressing out a nonsense melody, "It's your money now too," Damian told him easily, like that wasn't a bomb that he just dropped on him. 

"N-no, it's yours," Jon insisted. 

Damian sighed and shook his head. "We didn't sign a prenuptial agreement." Jon blinked at him and he continued completely unbothered. "I imagine there will be a considerable amount of paperwork regarding the trust, but after that-" he stopped when he got a good look at Jon, "Are you okay?"

"No!" He gasped not knowing how he was supposed to feel about all of this and settling on overwhelmed. "I don't want your money."

"That doesn't really matter now," Damian shrugged. "I'm not just going to give it away."

"How are you able to be so cavalier about this?" Jon demanded. "I could be some g-gold digging hoe bag who married you to suck you dry." He insisted, a little heat swelling in his cheeks when Damian smothered his laugh. "How are you not freaking out right now?"

Damian sighed and brushed a stray hair out of Jon's face, "Well. For starters, if you were a  _ gold digging hoe bag _ , I doubt you would tell me that. Also I don't think anyone who is remotely vile has ever used the word  _ hoebag _ in their life."

"Damian."

"I'm not worried," he continued, "Because I know you. I trust you, Jon. You have spent the last month pretending to be in love with me so that I won't get deported. You go into work at three in the morning to help with projects that don't affect your position. You talk to old ladies sitting alone on the bus because they look lonely. You are a good person, Jon. And I know you aren't here because of my money because you are my best friend. So please stop worrying and try to enjoy this vacation."

And he couldn't stop himself. He wrapped his hand around the nape of Damian's neck and pulled him in, kissing him so hard that he felt more than heard Damian's gasp of surprise. He had spent most of the plane ride thinking about how he should best approach the actual act of sex. Would it be better drunk? Awkwardly sober? Should they try watching porn or just kind of close their eyes and get into it. But this felt right. He threw his leg over the piano bench so that he was straddling it and moved closer, letting his tongue slip in between Damian's teeth. 

Damian's hand fell down on the piano keys making an awkward chord as he straightened himself, grabbing at Jon's shirt and fumbling with the buttons until he got most of them off save the top one that he couldn't quite pop. Jon moved his hand over to help him but Damian growled and bit his lip before he finally ripped the button off. He pulled the shirt down to Jon's elbows, pinning his arms to his side and pulled away for he could stare at him and the mess that Jon was sure that he looked like with his chest exposed and hair ruffled to high heaven. But Damian didn't seem to mind. He leaned in and bit at the pulse of his neck as Jon bit back a groan, the same warm build up from the plane knotting in his stomach. "Don't bite back, let me hear you," Damian whispered into his skin. 

Jon struggled out of his shirt, throwing it onto the piano as he lifted Damian from the bench. He wrapped his legs around Jon's waist as he walked him back into a wall and used it as a prop to pull at his buttons. Damian's was much easier to get off, all of the anxiety in his fingers eased by the tongue on his teeth, the lips at his ear and the hands in his hair. They pulled apart for a moment so that Jon could rip it off of him, and against the white of the wall, half dressed, looming over him like a dark angel Jon couldn't breathe. "You are so fucking beautiful," Jon barely managed before Damian pulled him in again. 

It took them a few pit stops to make it to the bed, unable to stay off each other long enough to see exactly where they were going. He put Damian down and he pushed Jon back onto the bed, crawling over him as he let his hand trail up his stomach. "I've been thinking about this since the reception," Damian muttered sweetly under his ear, running his hands up Jon's arms and pinning them above his head. "For legal reasons," he added and Jon laughed but it quickly turned into a moan when Damian ground against him. "Do you want me?" He asked Jon softly, like he wasn't torturing him with his slow and steady grind. 

"Yes." Jon barely breathed, his eyes closing when a strong wave a warmth tried to run up his spine. 

"More than you've ever wanted anyone?" He asked even softer.

"Yes," Jon growled pulled at his hands but Damian held him still. 

Damian grinned down at him in triumph, his grip slacking just enough, "What are you going to do to me?" 

Jon pulled his hands back and grabbed Damian's hips, flipping them before he could react. He blinked bewildered up at Jon but he was only able to appreciate it for a moment before the urge kicked back in and he was in overdrive. He pulled free the button of Damian's pants with one hand, palming at him and swallowing the low moan he let out in response. "I'm going to make you feel better than anyone ever has," Jon answered after long minutes of torturous kisses and touching. "Til the only name you remember is mine," he promised and before Damian could respond, Jon slid off the bed and onto his knees, pulling Damian to the edge with a tug. 

It wasn't often that Damian was manhandled, but he couldn't say he minded Jon moving him where he wanted him. Not if it resulted in Jon's mouth on his dick and his eyes dark and like fire as they watched his reactions. His fingers slid across the sheets, trying to find purchase, then across Jon's shoulder before sliding into his hair. Jon moaned when Damian pulled after a movement of Jon's tongue that had his blood singing. He tugged again and Jon pulled off to groan against his thigh. He looked as surprised by his reaction as Damian was. He ran his fingers through his hair softly as Jon kissed his thigh and breathed for a few seconds. He tugged on a strand and Jon moved up to kiss him. 

"Why are you still wearing pants?" he whined. Jon chuckled and pushed his pants down. He watched him struggle to kick them off. He grabbed the edge stuck on Jon's heel and yanked. He pushed Jon back against the bed and looked down at him. "This is my favorite version of you." 

"Naked?" Jon asked and swallowed when Damian traced a faint scar low on his stomach. 

"You were breathtaking today, but I missed these." He tapped Jon's glasses. He'd switched out at the airport and while they sat crooked on his face he couldn't help but smile at him. "I missed your curls." He brushed them back and kissed Jon. They rocked together as they kissed until Jon pulled back. 

"Do you still wanna?" he wiggled his eyebrows and Damian laughed. 

"Do I want to what, Jon?"

"You're such a dick." 

"You married me." 

"I did." Jon smiled. 

"You promised to make me forget every name I've ever known." 

"I did," Jon's smile slid into something devious and Jon rolled them kissing him and touching him everywhere. He wasn't sure where the lube came from, but he didn't spend too much time thinking about it. Jon didn't let him. He moved and touched and licked until Damian felt his orgasm rushing at him and he pushed Jon away. 

"You okay?" Jon asked. He blinked at Jon while struggling to catch his breath. He nodded and squirmed when Jon spread his fingers. The concern slid into a smug smirk. Jon added another finger, but kept the pace slow. He covered his face fingers in his hair as he tried to focus. Jon pulled his hands away. "I want to see you." He whined and arched off the bed after a teasing press of Jon's fingers. 

"Please, please. Jon," he pleaded. Jon kissed him and kept moving his fingers as he swallowed the pleas dropping from Damian's lips. 

"You ready, baby?" Jon's hand withdrew and he sobbed at the feeling. "I've got you. Going to take care of you." 

Jon moved so slow, his eyes on Damian as he pressed forward, slowing when the tiniest amount of discomfort showed. Even with the time they'd spent, Damian still felt impossibly full when Jon stopped, pressed so deep in him. He grabbed at him and held him there. Jon kissed up and down his neck, pressing soft words against his skin that had Damian floating. When Jon started to move, the barest shifts of his hips he pulled him in and they kissed until they were just breathing against each other, until Damian was sighing out Jon's name between each gasp and moan, until he cried out and came untouched between them. As the high drifted away and Jon's movements started to ache he stilled and came with a low groan. 

They lazily kissed until Damian was having trouble keeping his eyes open and Jon told him to go to sleep. 

-

Damian was surprised that Jon was still asleep when he woke up, the stream of sunlight from the hastily closed curtains cut across his face. He sat up and stretched, he felt sore in the best way. He closed the curtains the rest of the way on his way to the shower. Jon must have wiped him down after he fell asleep, but he could still feel the lube on his skin. 

He showered and wrapped a towel around his waist. He studied his reflection as he brushed his teeth. Jon had left marks from his neck to the edge of the towel. He pressed on one on his hip as Jon's hands slid around him. Jon kissed one of the marks on his neck. 

"I don't need any more," he said but didn't try to move out of Jon's arms. 

"I don't know about that," Jon replied and sucked hard on his neck. 

Damian leaned his head back, as he closed his eyes he caught sight of them in the mirror. Jon tugged on the towel and it fell away. He moaned, pressing back against Jon when he took him in hand. He watched them in the mirror as Jon pumped and kissed along his neck and shoulder. Their eyes met in the mirror and Jon's hips rocked against him. He felt him slide, only the thin fabric of his boxers between them. He pushed at the fabric as Jon kept his rhythm until Jon was free. The slide of him against his shower warm skin was  _ something _ . Jon held him against his chest as he rocked, sliding between his legs as he beat him. When Damian came Jon's eyes were locked on their reflection. Jon rushed biting at his shoulder before painting Damian's thighs. 

"Now I have to take another shower," he whined when Jon picked his head up to look at him. Jon slid his finger through the mess and a thrill raced up Damian's spine. Jon grabbed the towel and wiped him off. 

"Or you could come back to bed." Damian looked over at the shower but Jon tugged on his wrist. "Come back to bed." 

They spent the rest of the day in bed. He sat astride Jon's lap hands braced on his chest as he rocked slowly. Jon was biting his lip trying not to move as Damian set the pace. His hands were framing Damian's hips and he knew he wanted to take hold and move him, but he didn't. 

"I've never done this before," Damian said. 

"Done what?" Jon asked after a few seconds. He liked how distracted he sounded. 

"Had sex with the same person more than once. You seem to be the exception to everything for me." He leaned down and captured Jon's lips. He'd thought he'd have been more nervous the night before. 

"What do you mean?" Jon asked his eyes focused on him. 

"Well this is new," he offered rolling back against Jon. 

His head was too hot for him to understand what Damian was saying for a moment and he continued his torturously slow movements. Jon gasped as he understood what he meant and Damian grinned at him. "You mean, you never…?" Jon barely got out, unable to keep his hips from jerking and Damian let out a noise that he wanted to eat. He shook his head and Jon, grabbed his hips to keep him from moving. "I can't think when you do that," Jon told him breathlessly earning the grin that he loved so much in return. He took a minute to catch his breath, "And you just let me do that? You didn't say anything, I would have let you fuck me instead." 

A laugh bubbled out of Damian and he shook his head. "You shouldn't curse. Ever. It's like listening to a child who just discovered bad words." Jon bucked up with his hips and Damian yelped before pinching his side. "And I didn't say anything because I didn't think about it. Or much of anything really," he admitted. "There is a reason I got back in bed with you this morning."

Jon couldn't help the beaming smile that broke across his face. "You know, we never had the boyfriend talk." Damian frowned in confusion and Jon sat up. "You know, when you talk about all your past relationships. The heartbreak and the weird sex." He shrugged. "Boyfriend talk." Damian didn't say anything and Jon sat up when he looked awkward. "No boyfriends to talk about?" He asked, running his hand across Damian's cheek and holding the back of his neck. Damian shook his head. "Just me?" And Jon smiled again big enough that Damian had to roll his eyes before he kissed it away. 

-

They made it out of bed the next day, but Jon was so exhausted from the day before that Damian had to drag him out of their room before they stopped serving breakfast at ten. They made a quick stop to shower, twice, before heading back out into town. Jon suckered Damian into wearing a horrible red, yellow and green Hawaiian shirt that somehow he still made look amazing and insisted on stopping in every shop to find souvenirs for everyone back home. Damian rolled his eyes at him as he sorted through key chains before asking, "Do your parents really need a palm tree keychain?"

Jon shrugged. "No," he admitted with a grin and went back to them. "And they are your parents now too. Don't you think Gran would love-" he paused mid-sentence when he turned around and saw Damian frowning at him, his eyes so sad and so lonely that he wished he could take it all back. "D?" He asked dropping the keychain and walking over to him. Damian blinked coming back to himself and Jon rubbed his arm. "I'm sorry," he told him, "I shouldn't have said-" 

"No it's fine," he told him shaking his head and turned to a shelf of turtle keychains. "I think Martha would like these better."

Damian kept forgetting. It was easy to let himself believe the words in his vows. Because he had meant them. Jon was everything that he'd never thought he'd have before. He watched Jon debate with himself over a blue or green dolphin for Brown before putting the green dolphin back because the bright blue dolphin was more anatomically correct. He'd grinned at Damian, so proud of his reasoning, before moving on to find something for JJ. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to forget. This would hurt in the end no matter what he did. He might as well enjoy the time that he had with Jon. 

"How about we bring him back a girlfriend," Damian joked holding up a kitschy hula girl mug. 

"Is it safe to give him something that could hold that much coffee?" Jon asked with a wary expression. 

"He's going to drink it anyway. This saves him from having to make trips." 

"Good point. This is why you're the big boss."

"Ah yes. My mug choosing abilities really impressed Drake." Jon nudged him and added the mug to the small shopping basket he was holding. 

They finished shopping and wandered around the shops before eating lunch at a small truck. The truck's claim that they made the best tofu you'd ever had was what had drawn him in. Watching Jon chew on the tofu while trying to keep a smile on his face was one of the best things he'd ever seen. 

"What did you think?" he asked when he finished his taco. 

Jon hummed and nodded still chewing on one of his first bites. 

"You hate it." 

Jon snorted. "I feel like I should chew it, but I don't want to. It's chewy but not. It tastes good?" 

"Let's go find you something to eat." 

On their way to the hotel Jon tugged him over to a shaved ice stand. By the time that they got back Jon's entire mouth was distractingly red. Jon's embarrassed apology that morning was the only thing that kept him from kissing him, cherry flavor or not. They got dragged to one of shows the hotel put on and the nap they had both been looking forward to turned into fire breathing and dancing. 

By the time the show ended the sun was starting to set. He could see Jon's energy starting to wane and offered to get room service, but Jon wanted to try the restaurant down on the beach. It was a short walk and neither of them talked as they looked out at the waves. 

Their table had the same view and he found himself distracted by the sunset. Jon pulled his attention a few times as they talked about the menu. Jon debated over three drinks because they came in a coconut. They ended up getting all three and took turns trying them. 

Damian smiled at Jon while he ordered one of the local fish and tried pronouncing the name even though the waiter had followed Jon's finger and had already written down his order. 

"What?" Jon asked when he was done ordering. 

"Nothing." He didn't stop smiling at Jon and earned a frown. "Did you want to go to the beach tomorrow?" 

"I thought we were going to the volcano? You know the whole reason we came here." 

"I'm tired? If you want to we can, but I thought we could have a lazy day on the beach?" 

"Then we'll do your volcano. That way I get to swim in the ocean before we die." 

-

Damian waited outside and read the entire bottle of sunscreen while Jon dipped back inside to ask about surf lessons. His lazy day was starting to fill up. They were going parasailing in the evening and now surfing lessons some time before that. Jon had passed out as soon as they had gotten back to their room the night before and when he'd woken up he was back to his normal chipper morning person self. 

Jon poked his hip before walking around him. 

"Are we ready?" 

Jon nodded. "We're all set for after lunch." 

They walked down the path to the hotel's part of the beach. He set up in one of the lounge chairs with an umbrella over it while Jon struggled with the sunscreen. Damian had told him to put it on in the room, but he'd resisted. Now he was missing out on ocean time, when Damian pointed that out Jon shot him a look and put the bottle in his hand. 

"Do my back, Mr. 'I don't burn'." He sat down on the edge of Damian's chair. "I'm going to laugh when you're complaining about your sunburn later." He rubbed the lotion onto Jon's back. By the time he was done, the tips of Jon's ears were red and he was running for the water yelling for Damian to join him. He wiped his hand off on a towel and settled back down. He was planning on soaking and napping. 

He was on the edge of sleep and awake when Jon sat down next to him, drops of water splashing Damian. 

"Are you going to stay here all day?" 

"No. After lunch we're going surfing and-" 

"Oh. Haha," Jon shot him sarcastically then leaned back in the chair while he dried his hair. "The receptionist called me Mr. Al Ghul. Should we change our names?" 

"Do you want to change your name?" He glanced over to Jon. 

"Not really? Do you?" 

"I don't. It's important to me." He looked out at the other people on the beach laughing and joking. "And I already use my father's name at work, changing that now would make things complicated." 

"So we're keeping our names then. You don't think they'd think it was weird." 

"No Jon, but if they ask I will explain."

"Okay."

Jon did end up dragging him into the water. He got a mouthful of ocean water when a wave surprised him a few steps into the water. Surfing went about as well. Damian did manage to sit up on his board without tipping over, and watched Jon ride a wave. He had to admit that the parasailing was worth the effort. Jon held onto his hand tightly as they rose into the sky. 

They went back to their chairs. Damian glanced over to Jon who was smiling out at the view. He crawled into his chair and settled next to him. They laid there soaking in the last of the sun as it set. He yawned against Jon's shoulder. 

"Are you ready to head in?" He nodded, but neither of them moved. Damian kissed his shoulder, then neck. Jon leaned into the first few kisses before pulling back. "We don't have to do this." 

"I know that," he moved his knee between Jon's legs, grinding against his hip briefly. "I want to." He ran his fingers through Jon's hair, still damp from their day in the ocean. "Do you?" Jon looked at him, searched his face for any deception. 

"Let's go back to the room." Jon laced their fingers as he pulled him through the hotel.

-

He had underestimated the sun, but refused to admit that maybe he'd burned. By the way Jon was grinning at him while they waited for a car to take them out to the park, he knew. Jon kissed his tinted red nose when the car pulled up. 

"You look cute with your sunburn," Jon offered and climbed through the open door. 

It was a hike to the viewing spot one of receptionists had recommended the day before. There were views that he could have stared at for hours, but they kept moving. Jon chanting 'volcano' under his breath any time Damian started to get distracted by the land around them. Sometimes he missed it. The city was beautiful in its own way, but views like this were something he had always loved. 

"That's lava," Jon said with a little awe in his voice. "Like actual lava from a volcano." 

"Yes it is." 

"Okay, so this is really cool." Jon leaned against him. "You did good." They were lucky enough to be there during a guided tour and listened to the woman talk about the history of the flow and the island. Jon stayed tucked against his side. 

-

Damian finished the chapter he'd been reading before realizing that Jon had left to get them a couple of those fruity drinks a woman had walked by with, but hadn't come back. He glanced around to make sure that he hadn't missed Jon coming back, but there weren't any fruity drinks, and Jon's towel was still gone. He looked over his shoulder toward the bar set up in the corner of the pool. Jon was leaning against the bar. Two drinks topped with a plethora of sliced fruit sat next to him while he talked with a girl in a sparkly gold bathing suit that nearly matched her skin. He felt something uncomfortable twist in his stomach watching Jon laugh. He stood up when she leaned in and touched Jon's chest. 

He was tempted to grab her hand, but didn't trust himself not to twist it as hard as he could until he heard a pleasant pop. Instead he draped himself over Jon's back and wrapped his arm around his front, wedding ring in full view of the girl. 

"There you are  _ husband _ ," he said. She snatched her hand back and disappointment flashed across her eyes. Before things could get awkward Jon spoke. 

"Damian, this is Chloe. She's from Kansas too. She heard my accent when I was ordering." 

"Hi, nice to meet you." He offered her his left hand and she took it with a stiff smile. "I'm thirsty. Are these ours?" 

"I'll let you two get back to your vacation. It was nice to meet someone from home." 

"Yeah crazy," Jon said, but he was already picking off the pineapple from his glass and dropping it onto Damian's. Damian smiled at her and she stepped away her eyes wide before fleeing. "Can I have your strawberries?" 

"Take them," Damian answered holding out his glass. He snagged one of the pineapples and sucked on it while they walked back to their chairs by the pool. 

"You are looking a little pink. Should probably put on some more sunscreen," Jon said with a wide grin. He rolled his eyes and went back to his book. He heard the bottle open and Jon shifting around as he applied a new coat to himself. "Damian." 

He looked up and got a dollop of cream swiped across his nose. Jon laughed and swiped another across his forehead. "Ugh," he groaned. Jon stopped his hands from wiping off the globs of coconut scented goop. 

"Let me,  _ husband _ ," Jon said and smeared it over the bridge of his nose. He watched Jon's face as he concentrated on covering his skin. He could see a thicker layer smeared in his cheek and wiped at it. 

"You're looking pink too," he commented. Jon pursed his lips but kept working. He let him apply some to his shoulders and then they both settled back on their chairs. 

"Chloe was telling me about this restaurant down the road that her and her friends were going to tonight. They have this flaming cake." He turned to look at Jon. "I've never seen a flaming cake before. Do you want to go?" 

"You really have no idea what you look like, do you?" 

Jon touched his hair as he looked over to him. "What? Did I miss a spot?" he asked wiping at his face. 

"She was hitting on you." 

"No," Jon laughed, "she wasn't." 

"So everyone giggles and touches you like this?" he leaned forward and mimicked her laugh as he trailed a finger down his chest. 

"W-well no." He scoffed and leaned back. "Wait? Were you jealous?" 

He didn't answer. 

"You were, weren't you?" Jon was grinning, he could see it out of the corner of his eye. "It's okay babe. You're the only one for me." Jon smacked a kiss on his cheek and grimaced. "Ugh. I forgot about the sunscreen." 

They went to the restaurant that night and Jon got his flaming cake. 

-

Damian woke up on their last day in Hawaii plastered to Jon's back. He laid there breathing for a few minutes, trying to decide if he was going to go back to sleep or wake up. Jon shifted slightly and an idea slipped into his head. His hand was already resting on Jon's stomach and it wasn't hard to slide it down and under the band of his boxers. He kissed Jon's neck and started to move his hand. He felt when Jon woke up. 

"Shit D," he sighed. Jon rocked into his grip and back against his erection. He buried his moan against Jon's back and shifted his grip. 

"You're beautiful," he told him, kissing down his neck. Jon's hips jerked. He pressed closer, grinding against him. "Beautiful. Smart." Jon's voice rose as rocked against him. "Jon." He shifted, and nuzzled against his jaw. Jon turned and their mouths collided in a sloppy kiss. "So smart. So beautiful. And you're mine." Jon gasped and jerked in his hand. Jon slumped back into his pillow for a few breaths.

He rolled into his back and looked at Damian. He crooked his finger and when Damian leaned forward he shook his head and looked down at the strain of his boxers. Damian moved as gracefully as he could, which was probably just a scramble of flailing limbs because Jon's mouth was a gift from heaven and all his brain could think about was getting up there and getting it on him. 

"All of your exes are idiots," Damian grumbled into his pillow. 

Jon laughed and he turned to look at him. "Why?"

"You're really good at those. Why would you ever give that up? Particularly when the rest of you is included."

"Thanks?" Jon said sounding skeptical. 

He hummed and watched Jon for a few minutes. 

Damian didn’t remember falling asleep, but he woke up to Jon cursing out their suitcase. "It fit in here on the way down. Why won't it fit now?" Jon asked when Damian sat up. 

"I packed it." 

"So what? You're some master packer?" 

"Maybe. I lived out of a suitcase for a few years." He sent Jon to get their stuff from the bathroom and went to repacking the suitcase. 

Their ride to the airport was quiet. They were going back to the real world, to their real lives. He stared at the ocean as they drove and took Jon's hand. Jon squeezed his hand back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have story requests, questions or just want to say hello-- follow DNA and I on twitter at [@PBrubbs](https://twitter.com/PBrubbs) and [@Dnawhite51](https://twitter.com/Dnawhite51) and see the process of our day to day writing frustrations.


	9. Chapter 9

They slept the entire day. An entire day of flying had left him on edge and overtired. Damian didn't remember getting from the airport back to the apartment. He knew that they should go through the gifts piled on their couch, and should do laundry, but they only had the one day before they were back at work and he couldn't convince himself to get out of bed. Jon seemed to agree. He only got up to answer the door and returned with a pizza box. After their pizza Damian turned his phone back on and waited for the email alerts to come flooding in. Instead there was only three messages. One from Drake outlining everything he'd missed. One from Brown telling him that she was awesome and would be waiting for him in the morning. And one from Todd telling him that he better be ready to run shit for a week because he was going to kidnap Drake before Christmas. 

He chuckled and Jon hummed, looking up from his own phone. "Todd's planning on stealing Drake away for some stress relief of their own. He says us getting two vacations in a month isn't fair." 

"Tim needs a vacation. He's always working." 

"I told him to just marry him already. I still don't know why he hasn't." 

"Wait. They're together?" 

He looked down at Jon. "You didn't know?" 

"You're serious? How long?" 

"Brown claims they've been together since freshman year. Their eyes met over a beaker in chemistry and the rest was 'well chemistry'. Todd says that Drake was so nervous to be talking to someone that attractive and he dropped a test tube in his lap and then hit him in the face with the tongs trying to catch it."

"Does everyone know?"

"I thought so. It's obvious."

"Not obvious enough! Why wouldn't they tell anyone if they've been together for so long?"

"That I don't know. You can ask Drake since you're such good friends now." 

Jon looked a little pale at that idea. 

-

Brown beamed at him when he walked in. She had a cup of coffee in her hand and a file. 

"Do you know how hard it was to find you an assistant?" 

"Very?" he asked. 

"Yes, but I am amazing and have found you the perfect replacement." 

"Are you sure? You said this about the last three."

"This one is. Just wait." He flipped through the file as they walked to the conference room. Her smile grew with each second that he didn't speak. "You aren't immediately rejecting him." He ignored her taunt and kept reading. The work history was extensive. Brown had definitely put more effort into this one than the last couple. "Married life suits you by the way. Not a single frown yet." She poked between his eyebrows. 

"Thanks," he commented and she opened the door for him. 

"He should be here in a few minutes. Do you want to go over anything?" He shook his head. "Are you sure?" 

"I can ask any questions I have." Brown looked surprised, then her eyes went soft. He pulled back, then noticed she was looking behind him. He turned as one of the lobby receptionists opened the door. She smiled at the man she was directing in and when he thanked her with a tilt of his head she blushed before turning back and almost tripping over herself. Damian watched her catch herself with an amused smile before shaking the hand offered to him on reflex. 

"I'm Luca. It's nice to finally meet you. Steph's been talking you up all week." He glanced over to Brown and she looked like she was barely any better than the lobby girl. He looked at the man taking his seat across from them. He had dark blond hair, tied back in a low bun. He doubted that most companies would have appreciated the longer hair, but if JJ could look like a highlighter exploded on his head then a controlled bun was no problem. 

He asked a few questions and got full answers. Brown nudged him a few times as if to point out that she was right. He had to admit that he wasn't immediately unimpressed. When he finished the last of his answers he looked over to Brown and she grinned. 

"The position is yours if you can start today." 

Luca nodded, dark eyes brightening as he shook Damian's hand. "Of course." 

"Good. I'll show you around while Brown takes care of getting you into the system." 

"I'll need him back after lunch for paperwork." 

He waved her off. 

"I hope you don't mind me saying this, but you aren't exactly what I was expecting from what Steph had told me," Luca offered when they finished walking through the labs. JJ had whined about Damian not bringing him anything back. Jon had said they could give it to him at lunch so they would have at least one morning without him overdosing on caffeine. 

"I just got back from vacation. Give me a week." 

"She did mention that. Where did you go?" 

The rest of the trip up the elevator they talked about places they'd visited. Luca's mother was a travel writer and he had grown up in almost as many places as Damian had. 

The elevator dinged and they stepped out onto the office floor. 

"I miss Italy the most," Luca offered. "My grandparents still live there. I want to go back, but there's never time." 

"I lived in Tuscany for a year, which was a long time for us. I think it was because my mom liked it so much." The office was quiet as they walked. "I miss Germany." 

He smiled when he saw the croissant sitting next to a cup of coffee on his desk. He picked up the post it note and looked over to Jon's office. 

"Uh, sir?" Luca asked. 

"Oh sorry. Um. This is yours. Brown will get you squared away with access for tomorrow. You can join me for now and we'll go over your responsibilities." 

They talked about work for the next few hours until lunch rolled around. 

"Hey D, you ready?" He saw the moment Jon took in the new person sitting in the room. "Oh hi. I'm Jon." 

"Luca." He shook Jon's hand. 

"We should probably head out, babe. JJ is apparently pacing in the lobby waiting on us."

\---

JJ was elated with his coffee mug, holding it close to his chest when Damian finally handed it over and he fixed them with big watery eyes. "You  _ do _ care!" He exclaimed. And then made a face when he really got a good look at it. "Did you have to get me a mug that's so… tacky?" 

Damian made a face that looked like he was rearing up a lecture on how to receive gifts, but Jon squeezed his leg under that table and laughed it off. "Damian thought you could use a girlfriend." He offered and kissed Damian's cheek until he couldn't frown anymore. 

JJ made scrunched up his nose at them but smiled. "Well maybe if you shared the wealth." He wiggled his eyebrows. "Word around the office if you have a hot new assistant. Big blond and beautiful, really, really difficult to look at." He rolled his eyes. "Where is  _ my _ hot assistant?" 

"You seem to be abusing Jon every chance you get." He grumped putting his boss face back on for just the smallest of seconds. "Besides, Luca isn't even mildly attractive." 

Ah, so Luca was the new assistant. Something tightened in Jon's gut and JJ demanded to know if his husband was mad. It felt hot and hard and raw and immediately he knew that he was jealous. Which was stupid. First because he had been Damian's assistant before, he knew that there would be no favoritism there. His first mess up and Luca would be out of there and that would be that. But also because their marriage wasn't real. In a year, they would go back to being coworkers, maybe friends at best and it would be like this marriage never even happened… and maybe then… if he played all of his cards right, they could give it a shot for real. "Seriously though, you've already had a hot assistant! And no offense to Jon, the world knows that you are all beautiful and southern and charming. But Luca is a whole new level."

"I really don't see it." Damian said again, completely adorable and blank faced. "Is it the stupid hair?" 

Jon couldn't help but smile at that. "And the height and the muscles," he added and put his arm over the back of Damian's chair. "Objectively he is super attractive," he admitted and shrugged. "But he's not really my type."

"Oh really?" Damian smirked shifting to look at him better. "What exactly is your type then?"

Jon suppressed a grin. "Well you know, I like em a little shorter than me. Aggressive and dark. Adorable red nose." He poked the only part of him that was still pink and Damian's face heated, the smallest of smiles pulling up in the corner of his mouth. 

JJ made a gagging noise. "The pair of you are seriously disgusting." 

Damian didn't take his eyes off of Jon. "Then talk to your girlfriend," he told him and leaned in to kiss Jon. 

-

"Marriage looks good on you Kent." He looked up to see Tim leaning in his doorway, almost a smile peeking at the corner of his mouth. "Or is it Al Ghul now?" He asked eyebrow arching in interest. 

Jon felt a little thrill at seeing him, his conversation with Damian from the day before coming back to him, making him wonder if he and Tim really could be friends. But he pushed that off, the thought made him too nervous. 

"I'm undecided?" He offered and motioned for him to come in. "I like the sound of it, but I'm also not sure how my Pa would react. I'm his only kid so there isn't anyone else to carry on the family name-- but I could never ask Damian to change his." 

"I think your  _ Pa _ ," he smirked, "will be fine with whatever you choose. I met him at the wedding. He seems like a good man. Really loves you. Proud of you." Jon felt his face heat and nodded not really sure how to respond. "But as much as we missed you around here, I actually came to show you this." He pulled out a folder that he had been carrying under his arm and set it in front of him. "The Portable x ray has been fully funded and is in production. Backers said they liked the simple design. Very retro. And a good fit with the MRI." He was smiling when Jon looked up. "How does it feel knowing you just helped thousands of people across the globe get reasonable health care?" Jon couldn't speak his mouth was so dry. "Anyway, I have a meeting on Friday with a new investor, do you think Damian could spare you for an hour or so?"

It took him a second to get his brain to work again. "I, uh, yes sir!" He said, shaking his head. "I mean, I'll check with him-" 

"No need," Tim said checking his phone that just vibed and dialed an extension on Jon's office phone on speaker. 

" _ Well hello lover boy _ ," Stephanie crooned from the other end. " _ I love my anatomically correct dolphin _ ," she teased and Jon blushed. He hadn't realised Damian had told her that.

Tim made a face but didn't ask. "Steph, it's me." Tim was still texting. 

" _ Crap, the fuzz _ ." 

Tim ignored her. "Jon will be sitting in on my two o'clock on Friday. Will you rearrange his schedule?" 

" _ Anything else, oh powerful ruler of the universe? _ " 

"That will be all." He hung up in the middle of her snap back and looked bemused at him. "Anatomically correct dolphin?" 

"A key chain," he explained. "From Hawaii." And he felt his face redden again. "Actually! We got you something as well. Hold on." He dug through his bag and pulled out a t-shirt from the volcano tour shop and handed it to him. It had a cartoon volcano on it that said  _ Make Lava, Not War. _

Tim read it over and grinned, unable to stop it as he looked at Jon. "This is horrible," he told him delighted. 

Jon beamed back at him. "Damian said you used to be fond of lame science shirts so..." He shrugged. 

Tim shook his head and draped the shirt over his arm. "My office Friday, two o'clock," he told him again and shut the door, opening the shirt again as he walked off. 

-

Luca was sitting at Jon's old desk when he went to pick up Damian. Eagerly typing away and nodding in Jon's direction as he passed. He waved, feeling Luca's eyes lock on his wedding ring before he pursed his lips and looked back to the computer. That was odd, but he had had such a great first day back that he didn't want to dwell on it. 

He was surprised to see that Damian was actually packing up when he knocked on the open door. "Stephanie moved our weekly overview on Friday." He frowned at him as he clipped his bag shut. "Something I should know about?" 

He tried not to grin again but he couldn't help it. "Tim asked me to sit in on a meeting with him Friday. Something about a new investor." He shrugged and shook his head. "I'm sure it's not a big deal but it feels-" 

Damian cut him off with a kiss and he felt all of the nerves melt out of his body. "It  _ is _ a big deal," he told him. "Let's go home and celebrate." The way that his hand caressed the small of his back sent a bolt up his spine that made him wonder how fast they could get there. 

\---

He'd been told to expect at least an interview when he gave his lawyer their marriage license. He hadn't expected a knock at the door on a Saturday and a small man with bright red hair and glasses to be on the other side with a clipboard and a fake smile. 

"Mr. Al Ghul?" He nodded. "Hello, I'm Tucker. I'm with USCIS." Damian shook his hand and stepped back trying not to let the skyrocketing stress show on his face. "Do you have a few moments? I'd like to speak with you." 

"I do. Jon's watching a movie, I could get him?" 

"I'll speak with him in a moment if that is okay with you." He nodded and sat back down, clearing off the other half of the couch. 

"You know why I'm here?" 

"My lawyer briefed me that it might be a possibility." 

"Good. So I'll jump right in. Tell me about your relationship with Mr. Kent." 

"From the beginning?" he asked. They'd gone over all of the questions they'd been given weeks ago, but to form a narrative… Brown eyes studied him before giving him a slow nod. "We met each other at work. Jon was my assistant. He was more competent than most of the others. I liked that. He pushed back when he knew he was right. I liked that even more. We started going to dinner after long days. Then the dinners became excuses to see him more, to talk to him for a few minutes more." He thought back to those early days when Jon had still hesitated over calling him Damian. He had been fascinated by him. So polite and nervous about almost everything, except when he suddenly wasn't. "I think I wanted something between us from the very beginning, but it took almost a year for Jon to ask me out." 

"Why didn't you ask him out?" 

"I was his boss. I didn't want him to feel obligated to say yes." 

"Would Mr. Kent do that? Agree to something that he didn't want for your benefit?" There was a dark gleam in the man's eyes as he watched him. 

"Now? No. Back then, when he was still worried that giving me the wrong sandwich would get him fired… maybe. We started dating. He moved in during the summer unofficially. He claimed that it was because his lease wasn't up, but I think that he wanted his own space in case us working together and living together caused a strain." 

"When did you get engaged?" 

"About a month ago."

"Very short engagement." 

"My visa status rushed things." 

"Hmm." 

"How was the wedding?" 

"It was," he hesitated, trying to think of a word. But he could only think about Jon kneeling and sliding his grandfather's ring onto his finger, "perfect." 

"Did you go on a honeymoon?" 

"We went to Hawaii. Jon had never seen the ocean before. It was-" he trailed off. 

"So tell me about your families?" 

"My parents passed away when I was young. Jon's have a farm in Kansas. I met them when we announced our engagement." 

"You've been dating for two years and just met his parents?"

"Jon had his reasons and it was his family." 

"So who owns this apartment?" 

"I do, although Jon will be on the lease as soon as our building manager gets back from maternity leave." 

"I see. And I understand that you don't have joint accounts." 

"No. My father left me a trust fund when he passed. Jon isn't comfortable with putting his name on my family's money." He chuckled. "He doesn't want me to think that he's a gold digger. His words." 

"Thank you. Could you get Mr. Kent for me? I'd like to speak in private with him." 

Damian nodded and headed for the theater. He was aware of the dark eyes watching him the entire way. "Jon," he hissed. Jon mumbled something. Half awake as he watched his movie. "Jon." 

The urgency in his voice bled through and Jon looked up at him. "What?" 

"A man with immigration is here. He would like to speak with you in private for a few moments." Jon's eyes widened. He nodded his head to the living room. Jon looked past him before rushing to his feet. 

"Just a few questions. You're fine. We're fine." He brushed the back of Jon's hand as he passed. 

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Kent." He sat down and the door shut silencing the conversation in the other room. He stared at the door blankly. They were fine. He'd told Jon that seconds ago and he knew that they were. But were they? 

A few minutes that felt like hours later Jon opened the door. He looked uncomfortable. Damian stood and moved to step out, but Jon stopped him. 

"He said that he would see us again soon and thanked us for our time." He nodded. "That's bad right?" 

"I'm sure it's normal. What did you tell him?" He listened to Jon's answers. They didn't have the causal flow that Damian's conversation had. Tucker had been poking at holes. 

-

"Luca?" 

"Yes, sir?" 

"Where is the weekly project recap? I don't see it." 

"It hasn't been turned in yet. Would you like me to send a reminder?" 

His first inclination was to deny him and go ask Jon for it himself, but he knew that he would get distracted if he saw him. He looked over to Luca who was waiting at the door for an answer. 

"Please." 

-

Damian jerked awake. A nightmare he hadn't had in years fresh on his mind. He looked at his parents smiling faces on his night stand. The same faces that had been looking back at him when the truck hit. He hadn't been with them that day, but his mind supplied plenty of details to the scene. He knew he wasn't getting back to sleep that night. 

"D?" He turned enough to look up at Jon who was frowning at him, a concerned wrinkle growing in between his eyebrows. "You're going to be late if you don't get up." 

"I'm not going in today," he replied. "I asked Luca to clear my calendar." 

"Are you sick? You don't look warm." Jon reached for him, but he caught his hand. He held it and smiled up at Jon. 

"I'm fine Jon." He gave Jon his hand back. "I needed today to myself. That's all." 

Jon still looked concerned. "Okay. I'll bring you some food at lunch." 

He nodded and looked back to his parents' photos. 

\---

Clearing Damian’s calender apparently meant pushing all of it onto Jon's, which was entirely full up until one when he was finally able to step out. He dropped a few things off at Shelby’s desk and headed over towards Damian’s office. Luca was standing in his cubicle laughing over something that Annie who shared the wall with him said. She grinned and waved at Jon, he had always like Annie. She was small and blond and had come to Gotham from a small town in Texas, so she knew just how overwhelming it could all be. Luca, on the other hand, seemed less than thrilled to see Jon. He stiffened his back and seemed to work really hard to put on a pleasant expression. 

“Yes Mr. Kent?” he asked, hands behind his back. 

Jon ignored the tightness in his gut as he held out a stack of folders for him. “Notes from the last two meetings," he told him handing them over. “Let Damian know that the last two will try to rob us blind. The first offer is the only good option if this is what we are stuck with. I also left a few ideas for different projects we can steer them to inside.” 

Luca nodded and put them in the priority box on his desk. “I will make sure he gets them sir,” he assured Jon with an easy smile that turned curious. “Have you heard from Mr. Wayne today?” 

Jon frowned. “I haven’t, but I’m sure he’s resting.” He looked down at his watch and sighed. He had another meeting in half an hour, but he hadn’t heard from Damian at all and he was pretty sure that he would still be exactly where he left him. “Actually, if y’all will excuse me.” He winked when Annie grinned at his drawl and headed towards the elevator. He paced the upper lobby as he sent an email out for his last few meetings and finally was let into Tim’s office. 

He looked bored, flipping through a few papers like he wished that he were anywhere else. He looked up when Jon knocked and stepped in, a smile falling easily into place as he pushed whatever he had been working on aside. “Please tell me there was some kind of warehouse explosion.” 

“Are you that bored?” Jon grinned at him. 

Tim shrugged and waved him in. “It’s been a slow day. Jason is China with one of the companies that will be helping us with mass production-- so things have been particularly quiet and I cannot say I am enjoying it.” He sighed and sat back in his chair. “How can I help you today, Jon?” 

The thrill he always got when Tim used his name hit the back of his neck and helped him through the nerves that he had when he said, “Damian is out today. I have been taking all of his meetings, but I think that something might actually be wrong, and I just want to check on him. I have already gotten the rest of our clients to agree to a remote meeting if it’s alright with you.”

Tim nodded. “Of course. Do you mind if I dial in?” he asked.

Jon blinked and tried not to stammer. “O-of course, sir.” 

He rolled his eyes and went back to his paper. “Just Tim will do," he told him as a dismissal and Jon rushed out before he changed his mind. 

It only took Jon about ten minutes to get home and when he pushed open the bedroom door he saw that he was right, Damian was still curled into a ball on their bed. His eyes were closed but his eyebrows were drawn in. If he noticed that Jon was home, he didn’t say anything. Jon closed the door again quietly and took off his tie, hanging it on the front door knob as he passed to the kitchen. He took out a big pot and chopped some veggies and threw them in to brown before he added water and beans to start simmering. He had asked his grandmother for all of her vegetarian recipes and Damian had been talking about the last time he had eaten chili for a week. He dialed into his first conference call as the chili simmered and he chopped up his spices making bad cooking puns when they heard the chopping, but it seemed to go well. Tim stayed on after the call ended just long enough to give him some pointers and told him he’d be on for the next one. 

He went back to the theater and took the back cushions of the sofa off so that there was more room to lay down. He took the spare linens out of the hallway and made it up like a bed the best that he could before he checked the chili and put on a tea kettle. Once he had added just a dollop of honey to the tea, he added one ice cube and headed back to their room. Damian still hadn’t moved, but he did open his eyes when Jon sat on the edge of the bed. 

“Hey,” he offered quietly, pushing a stray hair out of Damian’s face. “Any better?” Damian shook his head. He looked so tired. “Are you ready to talk about it?” Damian hesitated and shook his head again. “That’s okay," he told him stood up. “Will you come with me to the other room?” 

Damian let Jon help him out of bed, keeping the quilt that Martha had made them wrapped around him as Jon lead him into the theater. He had put on one of the westerns that Damian had put at the very bottom of the collection. He knew it was important because he was always trying to hide it. Damian blinked at the title menu and let Jon help him over to the couch where he sat down and took the mug that Jon placed in his hands. Once he was settled, Jon kneeled in front of him and straightened the blanket. 

“All I need you to do for me today is drink and eat, okay?” he said softly. Damian’s eyes were misting when he nodded and Jon kissed his forehead. “I’ll be right outside. I have a few calls I have to make. But when you are ready for me, I’ll be here.” Damian nodded again and Jon pressed play as he closed the door. 

The second call went smoothly and after the third the chili was done. He brought a bowl into the theater with a glass of iced tea and took the mug back out for him as he hopped onto the next one. He waited for Damian to ask for him, but he didn’t so he worked at the kitchen table until it was dark outside and he had to take off his glasses to give his eyes a break. He sent off a report for Damian to check later and headed back into the theater. He smiled when he saw Damian passed out on the couch, the credits playing softly in the background. He picked up the empty bowl and almost empty glass and took them into the kitchen to clean up. Once he had everything put away and closed his laptop and went back to shut the theater down. He turned off the projector and went back over to Damian, picking him up as carefully as he could manage to carry him back to their bedroom. He tucked his head onto Jon’s shoulder and grumbled something as he nudged the door open with his knee and side wound his way in. 

Damian stayed asleep until Jon pulled the quilt so that it was stretched over the whole bed and grabbed Jon’s wrist when he reached across him. “Sorry,” Jon whispered, not wanting to pull him too far out sleep. “Go back to bed, baby. I’ll be back in a minute.”

He changed into his lounge pants and brushed his teeth, not bothering with a shower before he hit the lights and climbed under the sheets. He closed his eyes and Damian curled against him. He had assumed he’d gone back to bed when Damian said, “I haven’t had someone take care of me is over a decade.” That sat between them for a moment. “It’s nice," he muttered into his neck and he tucked in closer and the warmth that Jon had been blooming in his chest could not be held back. 

He kissed the top of Damian’s head and took a moment to breathe in his scent, coconuts and lavender and Damian. “I love you," he whispered there, but when all he got was breathing in response, he knew that Damian had already fallen asleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have story requests, questions or just want to say hello-- follow DNA and I on twitter at [@PBrubbs](https://twitter.com/PBrubbs) and [@Dnawhite51](https://twitter.com/Dnawhite51) and see the process of our day to day writing frustrations.


	10. Chapter 10

Damian was already gone when he woke up the next morning. Disappointment hit Jon hard until he saw the sticky note on the pillow next to him and pulled it up. 

_Husband,_

_I am sorry that I do not get to see how crazy your hair looks this morning. I have gone in early to catch up on what I missed. Rest assured this means I will get off when you are leaving tonight so that I may have the pleasure of taking care of you._

_Stop by and say hello when you get in._

_-D_

Jon grinned read the note twice wondering how on earth he had managed to fit all of that on a sticky note, but he didn’t complain. He got ready for work quickly enough he had time to go to their favorite coffee shop before going in. He pulled a sticky note out of his bag while in the elevator and wrote a very lewd message to stick to the lid of Damian’s cup, just finishing it as he stepped out. The office was still mostly empty when he stuck his head into Damian’s.

“Good morning," Jon told him, pulling his head up from whatever he was working on. “You look like you slept?”

“I did.” Damian smiled at him. “My husband makes an exceptional pillow.” 

“That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me," he told him walking over to the desk. He took the kiss that was offered to him and looked down at the coffee cup that was already in front of Damian. “At least I can be of some assistance to you.” He sighed and poked the cup. “Luca beat me?” He asked hoping that he didn’t sound as irritated as he actually was at that. There was just something about him… but it wasn’t important. “Well, keep the note anyway,” he told him peeling it off the top and sticking it to his computer screen. 

He could see Damian’s face turning red as he skimmed it. “Mr. Kent…” he muttered darkly. 

Jon grinned at him, backing towards the door. “Actually it’s Mr. Al Ghul today. I’m trying it out, seeing if I want it to stick.” 

It took more effort than Damian thought it would have to stay focused on work when he kept thinking about the post it note burning a hole in his pocket. He spent lunch with JJ spitballing ideas back and forth. When he got back to his office Luca was waiting with a stack of papers. They went through them, talking about their worst experiences abroad. 

"I'm looking forward to taking Jon to see some of the places I grew up."

"Has he not traveled?" 

"Our honeymoon is the furthest he's gone." He reread one of the figures. That couldn't be right. He took note of it and flipped the page. When he glanced up Luca was looking at him. "What is it?" 

"Oh nothing. I'm just surprised." 

He waited for Luca to elaborate, but he didn't and Damian went back to his report. 

"Thanks for sharing your secrets," Luca called slipping out past Jon. He put away his things. Jon was looking back at Luca when he looked up. 

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"What secrets?" Jon said as an answer. 

"They're not secrets," he mumbled. "Just little places I liked in different cities." He took Jon's hand. "Do you want to stop for food on the way home?" 

"Oh. Uh. Sure." Jon's smile seemed a little forced. 

-

"Da-Damian," Jon moaned. He would have grinned if his mouth wasn't occupied. Jon gasped. He pulled off and looked up at Jon, resting his head on his thigh. Jon whined. "Please." Jon's eyes were squeezed tight and he bit his lip as his hips thrust into nothing. 

"I don't know, babe." Jon cracked open an eye to glare at him. "I was supposed to take care of you." He kissed Jon's thigh. "I feel like I'm neglecting my duties." 

"No. Y'not." He tilted his hips toward Damian and he crawled back up to kiss him. 

"We've been married for almost a month," he kissed Jon's neck before adding, "and I've never been inside you." He watched Jon shudder. "Do you want that?" 

"Yes, please. Damian." Jon's voice cracked halfway through his name when Damian moved his leg between Jon's. He rocked against his thigh for a few seconds while Damian dug through the drawer. 

"Don't come yet, babe." Jon let out a heavy breath. He watched Jon focus, slowly controlling the hitches in his breath. Jon moaned when he pushed a single slick finger in. He watched him squirm, and his hands reach out. They moved from the pillow beneath his head to the headboard and the sheets. When he added a second finger, Jon's fingers twisted in the sheets. He jerked when Damian brushed against his prostate. He worked quicker as Jon's cries grew louder and more insistent. 

"Please," Jon begged. Damian pulled away and took a moment to look at Jon, writhing on the bed before him. He shuffled forward on the bed, the least graceful he'd ever felt, and lined himself up. 

"You're so beautiful," he sighed as he pressed in. Jon's hands grabbed the headboard again as he rocked slowly in. He watched Jon's face, hazy with lust. When Jon started rocking against him, Damian lost any semblance of control. Jon met every thrust. They moved together and worked together. Jon's pleas grew and Damian took him in hand. "Come for me, babe." Jon shouted and came over their chests. Damian didn't last much longer with every part of Jon pulling him in holding him tight. He came with a low groan and a weak noise from Jon. 

"You've been holding out on me," Jon said between breaths. 

"No," he mumbled against Jon's arm. He hadn't bothered to move from where he'd fallen. He'd never had sex like that, never felt like that before. 

"Well mark me down as taken care of." Jon yawned. 

He drew a check mark in the air with a muffled checking noise. Jon chuckled. 

-

The next morning Damian was straightening his tie when Jon came back in the room to grab something he'd forgotten. He saw Jon freeze, then the heat spark in his eyes as he took in the dark emerald suit from the shop where they'd gotten their wedding suits. 

They went in to work together. Jon insisted that it was Damian's fault that they were late, but he swore he was innocent. Luca had a coffee cup waiting for him, but he apologized and took a sip from the cup they'd gotten on their way in. 

Todd called while he was going over a mistake with Luca. He answered it and laughed. Todd was in the shirt they'd given Drake. 

_"What?"_ Todd asked. _"What's so funny?"_

"Nothing. Have you met Luca, my new Jon."

Luca waved and Jason smiled his new client smile at him. _"Stephanie mentioned something about her being awesome. Wait. Is that a- do you have a hickey?"_ Damian touched his neck, but obviously didn't know what he was talking about. Todd laughed. " _Are you thirteen?"_

"Did you call for a reason?" he asked. He hated how hot he could feel his face getting. 

_"I need someone to come out here. I'm not getting anywhere. I don't want to worry Tim yet."_

"Let me check on a few things. I can be on a plane tomorrow." 

_"Bring your new Jon."_ Jason smiled stiffly and signed off. 

"Are we actually going to China?" 

"It looks like it. Can you clear us for the week? Work with Brown. I have a call to make." Luca nodded and shut his door behind him. 

-

Jon didn't look happy when he dropped him off at the airport. He didn't know what to say to make it better so he kissed him. 

"I'll call as soon as we land." 

"And every night." 

"It'll be morning for you." 

"I don't care."

"I'll miss you," he offered hoping to change the look on Jon's face. It worked, his expression softened. 

"I'll miss you too."

"I have to go." 

"Have a good flight. You'll be fine," Jon said, clearing a little of his worry with a long kiss. "Tell Jason I'm mad at him." 

"Will do," he promised and picked up his bag. 

He put his earphones in and started reading the material Todd had sent him. When Luca sat down next to him he acknowledged him with a nod, but kept his focus on work. He closed his eyes during takeoff and tried not to think of the shudder of the plane, but instead of Jon's arms wrapped around him while he laughed at something on TV. It worked well enough to get them to cruising altitude. 

Todd was waiting for them, dressed in a suit and tie. He looked uncomfortable and Damian held back his comment. He could count the number of times he'd seen Todd in a full suit on one hand. There must be something more going on. 

There was.

"Hey, Jon." Damian yawned and leaned against the headboard. Jon's face filled his computer screen. He looked tired. "How was yesterday? Today?" 

" _Long. You_?" 

"I feel like I've been awake for a week." 

"Do you want the first shower?" Luca asked then stepped back, apologizing silently as he crossed the room, setting the bucket of ice on the dresser. 

_"Who is that?"_ Jon asked. 

"Luca. The hotel lost my reservation, so he's letting me stay with him."

_"How nice of him."_

"Better than sharing a bed with Todd." 

" _Did you make any progress?"_

"They threatened to force us out of the country completely. Not sure if that is progress." 

" _You're not serious_ ," Jon replied. 

"I'm pretty sure that's why Todd had me come." 

" _I'll try to keep Tim busy. He doesn't know yet_?" 

"No. Todd doesn't want him worrying if we get everything settled."

" _Okay. Well I need to run. Get some sleep. Text me if you want."_ Jon's voice was soft. 

"Good morning," Damian offered. Jon smiled, filling the screen. 

" _Goodnight_."

\---

The office felt quieter without Damian there, but also more full all at the same time. He had only been gone for a day and already Jon was pending approval on three new projects and by eleven he was headed into a follow up meeting from Damian's sick day in the conference room on the top floor. He looked at his phone when he stepped into the elevator, wanting to text Damian but he also knew that he needed to let him sleep. Next to _Luca_. Jon shook the thought out of his head as soon as it popped up there. They would be in separate beds and he was being ridiculous. Right? 

"You with me?" He blinked at Tim who was waiting for him in the lobby and stepped off the elevator. 

Jon shoved his phone into his pocket. "Sorry," he told him. "Just thinking about something Damian said this morning."

Tim groaned and they walked together towards the conference room. "Don't tell me you are also getting cryptic messages from China as well." He joked. 

"Something like that…" he muttered, another image of Luca walking out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel popping up next to the first one, but he forced a smile when they opened the door to see their clients already waiting. 

The meeting went for most of the day, hashing out pricings that they went over the first time. Tim chimed in here and there, but mostly he let Jon take over the meeting. By the time they wrapped up, contracts were being updated and it was getting dark outside. Jon looked down at his phone again, void of any message from Damian and tried not to pout as he shoved it into his pocket. He packed up his bag, lost enough in his sour thoughts that he didn't notice Tim staring at him until he was ready to head out. He blinked his scowl off, feeling incredibly awkward and wondering if he should say something, but Tim didn't give him the chance. "You look like you need a drink." He said and without another word he dragged Jon out of the office. 

Honestly Jon had expected Tim to take him to a fancy bar, one of the ones that you had to be waved into. So when they wound up at a musty old barcade, covered in old pinball machines and 8 bit games, he couldn't help but smile. Tim smirked at the sheer delight on Jon's face and led him up to the bar. The bartender was a twenty something who waved at Tim like he knew him and made some strange gesture. Tim held up two fingers and the man put two glasses on the bartop and filled it with too much alcohol-- but Jon took it with a thankful nod when Tim pushed it at him. 

"So spill," Tim told him when they sat down and he sipped at his drink. 

Jon raised an eyebrow. "Spill what?" 

Tim rolled his eyes. "You've been in and out of storm clouds all day. Staring at your phone waiting for Damian to call you. Either something is bothering you, or your husband and my boyfriend have burned down China while trying not to get kicked out of it." Jon blinked in surprise and Tim laughed. "Jason is an idiot, of course I know. And regardless, I'm sure it will end up fine."

Jon sighed and took a drink of whatever had been given to him, trying not to let on just how much it burned. "It's not that, it's just…" he shook his head feeling dumb. "Its stupid." Tim fixed him with a look and waited. Jon shot the rest of his drink and took a deep breath. "Okay, I'm going to tell you, but just so you know, by me making you privy to this information, you are now officially my friend."

"It's a burden I am willing to take on," he said solemnly. 

Jon closed his eyes, willing the alcohol to work faster. "Have you met Damian's new assistant?" Tim shook his head and Jon sighed. "Well, he's… charming. And attractive." He could feel the heat climbing up his neck. "And he's always talking to Damian like they just shared some kind of intimate secret. I just really really don't like him-- and I know I'm being crazy, but him and Damian are staying in the same room cause the hotel lost his reservation, and I swear he did it on purpose." 

Tim tapped the bartop and a new drink appeared in front of both of them, Tim tilting his first back. "You have any pictures?" 

They spent the next few hours talking about how Luca looked like a cartoon prince who was secretly the villain all along. And after that and a few more drinks they played every single pinball game in the building. 

"I am the god of pinball," Jon said as a greeting when Damian called, all upset immediately gone by the thought of talking to him. 

" _Good morning_?" Damian asked bewildered. 

"Good night time," Jon said back, grinning at Tim who still hadn't reached his high score. But then he frowned. "That didn't sound as cute as it did when you said it. What did I do?" 

" _Are you drunk_?"

He thought about it. Putting a head in front of his face to see if it was blurry. "Probably," he finally assessed. "Going home sounded sad and Tim told me about the storm clouds so now we are playing pinball." 

" _So let me ask this better_ ," Damian cleared his throat and Jon beamed thinking about how he probably straightened his back as he did so, a smug little smile on his beautiful freaking face. " _You and Tim are both drunk and you are playing pinball?"_

Jon nodded, not thinking about how Damian couldn't see him. "It's called a barcade. You know Smallville doesn't even have a bar? Like you can buy beer at restaurants-- but no bars. And in freaking Gotham all of the bars are other things instead of other things also being bars. Why do you think that is? Also, I love you."

The sound of Damian chuckling through the phone was enough to plaster the smile on his face forever. " _Exactly how much have you had to drink?"_

Jon hummed. "Enough to know that you are amazing and I want you to come home so I can love you to your face."

-

Damian had yawned as he woke up. It had taken him too long to fall asleep. He'd been tempted to call Jon a few times, but didn't want to bother him. He grabbed his laptop and laid back down while listening to the sound of the call attempting to connect. 

_"I am the god of pinball_ ," Jon proclaimed.

"Good morning?" He asked. Jon was holding the phone to his face like a normal call. 

" _Good night time."_ Jon replied. The phone moved away for a moment and he saw Tim leaning against a claw machine looking like he was going to cry. " _That didn't sound as cute as it did when you said it. What did I do?"_ Jon's words slurred together and it took Damian a moment to realize what he'd said. 

"Are you drunk?"

" _Probably_ ." Luca walked into the room, already dressed. Though his hair still looked wet. " _Going home sounded sad and Tim told me about the storm clouds so now we are playing pinball_." 

"So let me ask this better." He cleared his throat aware at how soft he had let his voice go. "You and Tim are both drunk and you are playing pinball?" 

Jon nodded. The edges of the world around Jon tilted as he went on about the bar. Luca tapped his wrist and Damian started to interrupt his rambling when Jon paused after his question before stating loudly " _Also, I love you_."

He laughed. He was being watched and he knew he couldn't react the way he wanted to. He wanted to ask Jon to repeat it, but instead he asked "Exactly how much have you had to drink?" 

_"Enough to know that you are amazing and I want you to come home so I can love you to your face."_

"I want to come home too. But I have to go get people to do what I want first" 

" _You're good at that_ ," Jon said. Damian couldn't help the bubble of pride at the words even if they were slurred. " _When you come home I'll do whatever you want."_ Damian felt his face heat at Jon's tone. He realized that skyping Jon with the hopes of seeing him had backfired horrifically. 

"Sounds great Jon. I ha-have to go. Goodnight!" He closed the laptop lid before Jon could say anything else. He stared at it before retreating into the bathroom. 

"Are you ready?" he asked when he stepped back out dressed and ready to do what he was good at.

-

"What are you doing?" he asked. 

Todd had leaned forward to look at him. He wanted to lean back but couldn't. "Are we friends?" 

"Yes?" he said. 

Todd frowned. "You don't sound like you're sure. If Jon and Tim are friends then we should be friends. I know how to make us friends. Let's go. _Luca_ can find his way back to the hotel." 

Apparently getting Damian drunk was Todd's plan. He didn't like the plan, but as the night went on he liked it more and more. 

"My husband thinks I'm good at my job." He blurted at Todd. 

" _My husband_ thinks I'm the best at my job." Todd shot back.

"You don't have a husband."

"I know that. But I will. And WHEN he is my husband he'll think I'm great at my job."

"My husband made me chili," Damian replied. 

"My soon to be husband attempted to make me breakfast." 

"Attempted?" 

"He caught the toaster on fire. It was a thing. But he tried that's what counts." 

"My husband brings me coffee every day." Damian smiled and leaned against the bar. 

"Yeah. My work wife does that. I don't trust my husband with my coffee. It wouldn't make it to me." 

"My husband ate tofu for me." 

"My husband packs shirts that smell like him when I go on trips without telling me." Todd's smile was soft as he took another drink. 

"My husband is calling me." Damian answered the phone. 

" _Good night!_ " Jon proclaimed. He sounded too chipper for someone that had been drinking the night before. 

"Good morning, husband," Damian smiled and leaned back. "You're the best husband."

Todd caught him before he fell off the stool and took the phone. "Hey Jon." 

"Oh. We've just been talking about you," Todd said. Damian leaned against him. He hummed and felt like laying down was a good idea. "Oh. No. Hey. Stay up." Todd lifted him back up onto the chair. 

"Yeah. No problem. I wouldn't either. Tell Tim I found a teddy bear." Jason lifted him up. "Say goodbye to Jon, Damian." 

"Night Jon. I miss you," he mumbled. 

-

Damian woke up drooling on Todd's arm. He jerked up and wiped at his mouth as he looked around the room. 

"Gross, D." Todd groaned into his pillow and moved his arm around on the sheet. "I don't know how Jon sleeps with you. You're like a freaking octopus." 

"Why am I here?" 

"I'm a good friend. I didn't want you to die in your sleep or worse." Todd rolled over. "How was your first slumber party?" 

"Disappointing. I don't remember any pillow fights." 

Todd grabbed a pillow and hit him in the face with it. "There. Pillow fight. We gossiped. I braided your hair while you got sick. We pillow fought. Best. Slumber party. Ever." Todd's phone started buzzing. He groaned and grabbed it. "Jason Todd," he said as a greeting. "He's with me. I guess his phone died. Sure. Can you find us a McDonald's?" Todd hung up. 

"Who was that?" 

"You're secretary. He was worried when you didn't come back." Todd rolled his eyes. 

"Did my phone really die?" Damian looked around before he saw it sitting on his carefully folded socks and jacket. He looked over to Todd. "Did you fold my clothes?"

"I like things neat okay. Leave me alone. Get out. Go change and call your husband." 

Damian stuck his phone on his charger and showered. He didn't feel as bad as he would have expected, but he could remember Todd prodding him to finish a bottle of water so that was probably why. He turned his phone on as he dried his hair. Jon had sent him a few texts during the night and he smiled before hitting dial. 

" _Best husband in the history of the universe speaking_."

"Hi," Damian told him with a smile. 

" _How are you feeling?_ " 

"I'm okay. Todd made sure I drank water. He also braided my hair for some reason?" 

" _Tim did that too!_ " Jon exclaimed. " _I didn't even see him do it_." 

"They are so odd," he told him. "How was your day?" 

" _It was good. JJ and I got lunch. Steph showed me your first employee photo. You were a child_."

"I was 18. I was not a child." 

" _Cute little glaring Dami_." 

The door opened. "Sir? The car is waiting." 

"I have to go. With any luck we'll finish up today then I'll see you tomorrow." 

" _Okay. Good morning,_ " Jon said, his voice falling flat. 

"Goodnight." 

He grabbed his jacket and slid it on before following Luca to the elevator. "So you and Mr. Todd were out late last night." 

"We had some issues that we needed to address." 

"Do you really think we'll finish today?" 

"I hope so." 

A family joined them in the elevator and Luca bumped into him. He apologized, but didn't move away. The little kid stared up at Damian and he made a face at him. The boy made a face back and they spent the rest of the ride going back and forth. 

-

He sent Jon a plane emoji halfway through his day and wasn't surprised when he didn't get a response until they were back in the hotel packing up. He smiled and accepted the video chat. 

" _Did you get kicked out of China?_ " Damian was so startled by the question that he didn't answer. " _I'm kidding? Tim told me you guys got us a better deal and everything_." 

"Because we're the best." 

Jason stole his aisle seat from him. He stared at the window before Luca volunteered to take the inside. He let him past and settled next to him. Jason was already reading a book and didn't look like he'd be bothered. 

Damian turned his music on and focused on the seat in front of him as the plane moved through the airport. He glanced over and met Lucas's eyes. He looked away and saw the ground beginning to speed by. He focused back on the seat. The plane lifted, then dropped and he gripped the armrest. The plane continued to rise and he gripped harder. It was a rough take off, and the pilot had warned them, but that wasn't enough. As the plane leveled out and the jerking and rocking settled he felt something brush against his hand. He looked down. Lucas's hand was on his, his thumb rubbing against the back of his hand, his ring. He leaned forward and reached for his bag. Luca's hand fell away without a word. Damian frowned. That was odd. 

-

"You didn't have to pick me up," Damian said when he saw Jon waiting at baggage claim. He looked soft in a worn Smallville HS shirt and Damian wanted to walk straight into his arms, but he also wanted to get his bag so he could go home and fall asleep in them. 

"I know. I just missed you." Damian smiled. He caught Jon's fingers. 

" _See you in the morning, Sir."_ Luca nodded at him as he passed on his way out. 

" _Goodnight."_

Jon grabbed Damian's bag off the carousel, using the second away from him to school the expression he was sure was on his face at whatever Luca had just said. The monster in the pit of his stomach was rearing its head, but Damian had just gotten home and Jon wasn't about to ruin that by being jealous. At least, not in the airport. Damian made that easy though. He spent the entire ride home talking about the trip and the cool places he had been to. He told him about hanging out with Jason and how he had accused him of drooling on him- which could never happen, obviously. He told Jon about the meetings and all of the hoops they had to go through. And he told Jon about Luca. How he was surprised to find out that he knew Chinese, because of course he did, and how big of a help he had turned out to be. 

"I probably should get Stephanie something to thank her," he muttered as Jon unlocked their front door. "When she told me she got me the greatest assistant ever-"

"Yeah, Luca is awesome." Jon cut him off with a tight lipped smile. "We get it." He grumped as he rolled Damian's bag into their bedroom. 

He placed the bag on the bed and opened it, feeling the heat in his face start to fall down his neck as he took out Damian's dirty clothes and threw them in the hamper. He just needed to calm down. Just a minute before he went back out and apologized for being snappy. But Damian pushed the door opened slowly and looked at Jon curiously before he stepped in and closed the door. 

Jon tried to pretend that he didn't notice as he went about unpacking the suitcase, but when Damian sat down on the bed next to it, he couldn't pretend anymore. He went to grab the toiletries out of the bag, but Damian grabbed his wrist and pulled until he had to stop and face him. He was frowning, but the longer he stared at him, the lighter his eyes got. "Are you... jealous of Luca?" He asked softly. 

Jon felt shame climb up his throat like bile as his face heated instantly bright once again. He thought about lying, but the truth was already being forecasted across his face. 

"Maybe a little," he admitted, not able to look at Damian who tutted. "But is it so far fetched for me to feel that way?" He asked. "Everyone is always saying how great he is. He can speak Chinese and _Arabic,_ " it was hard to keep the bitterness out of his voice when he had just heard it. "And you guys have been to all the same places! I'm just the guy from Smallville. I have been to here and Hawaii now-- but that's it. And Luca is just…" he closed his eyes, feeling like an idiot as he rubbed the back of his neck. "It's like he's your perfect match. Like you are soulmates or something."

Damian didn't say anything and Jon kept his eyes closed. He didn't want to see what he looked like if he was having a realization that Jon was right. But he didn’t say anything. Instead he tugged on Jon's arm and pulled him in, Jon's eyes popping open as he caught himself with his hands on either side of Damian. Damian held his face in his hands, forcing him to look straight at him. He was smiling and Jon swallowed knowing his face was still blazing. 

"I don't believe in soulmates," he said softly. "I didn't believe in marriage either, until you." His face got redder and Damian let his hand travel to the back of his neck to pull him in. 

Part of him wanted to push the issue. But the other part hadn't seen Damian in a week and knew that he needed this. So he melted into him, crawling onto Damian's lap. They kissed for a while without it working towards anything, just refueling from their week apart. 

"You have nothing to be jealous about," Damian breathed when they finally broke apart. Jon nodded trying his best to hear him, but something in his stomach told him that something still felt wrong. 

-

Damian left before him the next morning, having a week's worth of work to review. Jon frowned at the empty space in the bed and noticed a poorly wrapped package. There was a sticky note stuck to the front covered in Damian's delicate script. 

_Husband._

_I saw this in China and thought of you. Please accept this and pretend I was there to give it to you._

_-D_

Jon couldn't help but grin, excited as he ripped open the wrapping paper to reveal a pink panda keychain. He corrected himself. An _anatomically correct_ pink panda keychain. He laughed and got out of bed immediately putting it on his keys. He snapped a picture with his phone and sent a text to Damian. 

**JK:** If we keep getting each other keychains, Christmas is going to be super easy. 

Damian texted back immediately. 

**DAG:** I know how important anatomically correct figurines are to you. 

**JK:** Also, I could get used to you leaving me notes.

**DAG:** You are shockingly easy to please, Mr. Kent. 

**JK:** I thought I told you that it was Mr. Al Ghul for now. And it makes me feel like we are in a Jane Austin novel.

He watched the text thread buffer for a moment, his heart thumping for no reason. He bit his lip when it finally came through. 

**DAG:** Jonathan Al Ghul has a nice ring to it.

He stared at the text for a minute, all of the air washing out of him and leaving him light headed. He wanted to push at it. To look further into it and to ask him if he wanted to make this something more permanent. He would change his name. He would change it in a heartbeat if it made Damian happy. But he didn't want to say that in a text. So he put his phone down and went to get ready for work. 

He walked in with a tray of coffee, stopping at Luca's desk before he went into Damian's office. Luca took off his headset and frowned at him, probably confused as to what he would want when Jon spent most of his time ignoring him. He held up a cup and set it on his desk. 

"I'm sure the jetlag is rough," he said as a peace offering and Luca thanked him awkwardly as he walked into Damian's open office. 

He glanced up at Jon and quickly looked back down, trying to bite back a smile. 

"Ah, Mr. Al Ghul," he said all business. "I see you managed to keep the building from exploding while I was gone."

"Well, it did catch fire once," he offered and stepped a little closer to him, fishing through the cups to find the one that read, _second best husband in the univers_ e and set it in front of him. "But it was in the lab and JJ kept his eyebrows this time."

Damian frowned at the extra cup in the carrier. "Do you have another husband I would be worried about?"

"Yes," Jon sighed like it was a burden. "I have a work husband now." He turned the cup to show Damian that it said _pinball wizard._

"Drake," Damian said finally when it clicked. 

Jon nodded. "Apparently Jason stole Steph so the position has been open for a while."

Damian frowned, "Then who is my work husband?" 

"Also me," Jon promised and leaned in to kiss him. Damian was pouting when he pulled away but Jon grinned moving towards the door. "If it helps, I gave you a better coffee cup name." Damian narrowed his eyes at him but Jon saw him smirk when he looked down at the cup he'd left him. 

-

Two weeks went by quickly and before he knew it the office was emptying out for Christmas break. He and Damian were packed and ready to head back to the farm and just had to get through one more day of work. Jon was dreading it. He had been enjoying the bubble of just the two of them and his grandmother was already starting to talk about great-grandkids. But he knew Damian was excited and it warmed his heart to the point were one more day of work sounded like torture. 

Almost everyone had already started their holiday so the office was mostly empty when they walked in together hand in hand. Jon was tempted to grab his laptop and work out of Damian's office-- but he didn't want to leave his heart too far out on his sleeve so he promised that he would see him at the end of the day and left him at the door with a kiss and a cordial wave to Luca. 

Most of their projects were wrapping up and most of the day was paperwork until a quick lunch meeting with Tim and a new client. He wasn't entirely sure why Tim kept dragging him along to meetings. Mostly he felt like a child talking to adults, but they usually turned out well. Still he was surprised when the client left and Tim ordered them both a drink that Jon was sure to hate and he fixed Jon with an intent look. "I have a business trip coming up after the holidays. In England to visit an associate of mine. I was going to ask Damian to go, but seeing as you have been so hands on, how would you like to come with me?" 

Jon blinked and in a very small voice asked, "You want me to go to England with you?"

Tim shrugged. "I mean yeah. You know your stuff and I could stand to have a friend with me for once." And when he smiled it was genuine. "It'll be fun." Jon didn't stop nodding until he took a sip of his drink and almost gagged. 

As the day started to close, he couldn't help the excited buzz that he could feel crawling under his skin. It had been a better day than he expected and now they would be heading to Smallville. He could cozy up with Damian by his parent's giant fireplace and maybe- if everything fell into place- they could talk about their marriage, maybe make it something more permanent? He grabbed his bag and headed down the empty walkway towards the only light left on in the building. He could hear Damian talking through the cracked door and was about to push it open when he heard Luca talking back. 

"Christmas in Smallville?" Luca chuckled like it was a joke. "That sounds dreadful."

Jon frowned immediately regretting his truce coffee. "It isn't," Damian replied sounding almost bored. "Jon's family is very traditional and I'm not sure I have ever had a normal holiday."

Luca snorted at that. "It's boring," he promised him. "I doubt you'll find much interest in it. If you like I could always call you in on an emergency. Distract you with something more… exciting."

Jon felt his heart pick up its pace, his hand was on the door but he stood frozen not sure if he should react the way he wanted to. But Damian spoke before he could figure out what that meant. "What are you implying?" 

"Just that I know what this is." Jon swallowed, free hand fisting at his side. "You and Jon. There is no way he got where he is from where I am without a little extra help. I've seen the way you look at me. We have so much more in common, I could make you much _happier_." Jon couldn't stand outside any longer. He pushed the door open wide. His heart stopped, blinking as he saw Damian pressed into the wall, Luca looming over him with his hand on either side, covering him from view. 

Jon stepped back out, breathing hard with his back against the wall a first clenched to his throbbing chest. He felt like he had been stabbed. Like if he let go of the spot he would bleed out. He wanted to scream, he wanted to go into that office and beat the life out of Luca. But he and Damian had been standing together, he hadn't seen him push Luca back, he… maybe he wanted that. Maybe the time in China had meant more to him that he let on. Maybe all of this, their relationship, the sweetness. Maybe it all really was just for show. He did his best to swallow back the hurt as he heard a voice inside the door. He didn't stop to listen. He went back to his office and dropped into his chair, pulling his computer back out to stage the scene. 

Damian looked a little flushed when he showed up at his door, frowning away what had been a bright smile. "Are you ready to go?" 

Jon hated how thick his voice sounded. "I just need ten more minutes," he promised and cleared his throat. "Wait for me in the lobby?" Damian nodded and Jon offered him his cheek when he came to kiss him before leaving Jon to pull all his pieces back together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have story requests, questions or just want to say hello-- follow DNA and I on twitter at [@PBrubbs](https://twitter.com/PBrubbs) and [@Dnawhite51](https://twitter.com/Dnawhite51) and see the process of our day to day writing frustrations.


	11. Chapter 11

Jon was quiet. He asked Damian if he was hungry while they waited at the terminal then wandered off when Damian shrugged. "Are you okay?" he asked when Jon got back with an ice cream cone. 

He handed Damian his coffee cup and replied with a simple, "Yeah. Why?" 

"I don't know. Things are still okay with your dad right?" 

"Yeah. Things are good." Jon offered him a shadow of his normal smile. "He's planning on showing you all that Smallville has to offer." 

"I thought I saw that last time."

"Not according to my Pa. Smallville has  _ secrets." _ Jon let his voice drop into a tone that he knew was supposed to convey mystery, but really only sounded like a deeper version of Jon's voice. The smile was back though and Damian felt like something had finally gone right. 

"He's also picking us up from the airport." 

"Don't let him see me if I vomit." 

"Okay," Jon said and kissed his temple. 

Damian sighed and recited all of the things that he had to look forward to one they landed. "A tree. Carols. Cranberry sauce."

"I don't know why you're so excited for cranberry sauce."

"Your grandma. Also she tracked down some tofurkey. Will you eat tofu again with me, husband?" Jon looked away. He saw his shoulders grow tense and frowned. "You don't have to," he offered. 

"I'm going to go to the restroom before the plane gets here," Jon said and darted off. 

-

He got off the plane and headed for the gate they'd used for the death trap they'd flown last time, but Jon caught his hand. "We're this way." 

He followed Jon through the airport to the baggage claim and did a double take when he saw Clark. "We're driving?"

"I know you hated that flight and I didn't want you to start off your Christmas like that. Plus my Pa offered." Jon looked a little shy about it so Damian tugged him in for a kiss. 

They spent the three hour drive switching between talking about westerns, Jon and Clark warbling off key to Christmas carols on the radio, and Damian telling them about what he'd done on a few holidays with his mom. Jon had fallen asleep on his shoulder as Damian told Clark about the time his dad had taken him to an old spaghetti western set. It had been fun and they'd spent the day shooting each other. "I think you would have liked him." 

Clark looked over at him and smiled. "I don't know. Jon told me his favorite movie was the Legend of Zorro." He knew that Clark was teasing him, but Damian couldn't let that slight go undefended. 

Jon groaned and told them to be quiet before tucking his head deeper into Damian's chest. Clark chuckled and they quieted. 

It was late when they reached the farm. Clark waved him off when he reached for their bags and told him to get Jon to bed when they got to the house. "C'mon babe," he murmured and Jon followed after him with deep yawns. 

"Damian?" Jon called when he turned off the light. 

"Hmm?" he asked and shifted closer. 

"Thanks for coming with me."

"Of course." He chuckled. "Holidays are meant to spend with family right?" Jon didn't say anything back. He pressed his face into his back and relaxed as he listened to Jon's breathing. 

-

Damian woke up to a plate of pancakes being waved in front of him. He reached for it and it slid away. "Breakfast is downstairs." Jon smiled. It was a relief to see him back to his normal self.

"Good morning," Damian said and pulled Jon in for a kiss. He tugged Jon in and laid back on the bed. Jon held himself up and looked down on him. He reached up and ran his thumb over Jon's dimple. "Breakfast in bed sounds better." 

"Breakfast and my  _ parents _ are downstairs," Jon replied. Jon didn't move away, but he raised an eyebrow like he was daring Damian to decide. 

"Fine. We'll eat with your parents. But you owe me a breakfast in bed." 

"Okay," Jon said with a laugh and disappeared with the plate. 

-

Jon snorted into his orange juice when Damian walked into the kitchen. 

"You're wearing it!" Martha exclaimed. He smiled and pulled the sweater away from him to look down at the overly cheery Santa wishing everyone a Merry Christmas. "Jon. Go put yours on!" 

"What? But I don't-" 

"Isn't it tradition Jonathan?" Damian asked and smiled. Jon's eyes narrowed at him. "Where is your holiday cheer?" A guilt filled look from Martha had Jon pushing to his feet. 

"I hate you," Jon whispered as he passed him. He laughed to himself and sat down. Lois was barely holding back her laughter and Clark was sitting in a variation of the same sweater. He could see the sympathy he had for his son. 

"What's first?" Damian asked when they'd finished eating and Martha had returned wiping her hands on a towel. 

"We saved the tree until you were here," Clark offered. Jon smiled wide and grabbed Damian's hand. He didn't know how he hadn't seen it when they arrived the night before, but there was a 7' tree standing in the corner of their living room where a rocking chair had sat the last time. 

"Grab those lights," Jon said. He followed his directions and slowly the tree was wrapped in twinkling lights. He stared at it for a few minutes as Jon debated with his mom if they needed another strand. He'd never had a Christmas tree before. He'd never really wanted one before. But it was fascinating to look at. Lois handed him a box of glass ornaments. 

"Spread them around. Clark went to go get the other box. That he was  _ supposed _ to bring in last night," she called after Clark who grumbled on his way out the door. Jon fiddled with the lights while Damian hooked the ornaments onto the tree. 

"What do you think so far?" Jon asked when Damian had slid the last ornament on and they'd stepped back. "It's nice." Jon looked over to him and smiled softly at him before unplugging the tree. 

"Now we wait until it's all done." 

Clark struggled through the door and set the box down with a heavy thud. Jon pulled open the box and pulled out what looked like a light bulb. "This is Frosty. He's a snowman I made when I was 4." Jon showed him the snowman with the upside down nose and the wobbly smile. They went through the box, Jon sharing the stories for some of the ornaments, Clark and Martha chiming in with a few others. Lois correcting any of their stories. They put the last ornament on and Damian felt all of them smiling at him. 

"What?" 

"Everyone has an ornament. So you have to make yours." Jon handed him a blank white light bulb with a lopsided felt hat. "Give him a face and a name." Lois handed him a paintbrush and he sat down staring at the blank white space. He drew a big smile. His nose was a little crooked as he glued it on. He shrugged and Lois took his creation and blew on it until the paint dried. She wrote his name on the bottom and the date. 

"Here you go," she said handing him his ornament. He looked at the tree before smiling and setting his next to Jon's. Clark put the star at the top of the tree and Jon pulled Damian back to the door so he could get the whole Christmas effect with the stockings on the mantle and the blankets on the couch and chair. 

The room lit up as Clark plugged the tree back in. Damian stared at it, and while it was as grand as Jon had described it weeks ago he could only focus on the fact that they were sharing it with him. They'd told him their stories, had laughed and welcomed him. He had an ornament of his own mixed in with all of the history of their family. Because they wanted him to be part of it. 

He hugged Jon. 

After they'd drank cocoa and added layers they all piled into the pick up, Jon and Damian sat in the bed under thick blankets. 

The sun was already starting to set when they'd reached the edge of town. Jon pointed out the lights on the different buildings as they drove by it. He told Damian about the years past. He watched Jon as he spoke about his hometown as much as he looked at the lights. He thought that he'd already seen Jon at his most breathtaking, but as he laughed about some failed display with his breath fogging in the air and cheeks tinted pink from the cold, he realized he'd been wrong. The pick up slowed down and Damian heard singing. Jon pulled him over to the edge. There were a group of people walking down the street singing together. He recognized the song as they got closer. Jon and Clark had taught him it on the drive in. 

"I wish we lived closer in. They go door to door," Jon said after they had passed and the truck moved on. He pulled Jon closer, complaining about the cold, but he really only wanted an excuse. Jon wrapped him up and they settled against the cab as they drove through downtown and a few streets around it. 

After they got back, and Martha shoved plates of sandwiches at them they were ushered upstairs to get into their pajamas. 

"Normally we make the cookies too, but this year we thought heading downtown would be better. You get to ice them though." Lois handed him a tube of icing. Jon had his own and a tray of reindeer and Santa sugar cookies. 

They ended up with more icing on their hands than the cookies. Damian had a red stripe across his cheek that Jon had threatened to lick off if he didn't stop making angry Santa's. He liked his frowning symbols of holiday cheer. 

Lois came back with a jug of apple cider and the remote. 

"It is time for the most sacred of all holiday traditions." 

Jon smiled and tugged Damian up. 

"What is it- ugh! Jon!" he groaned when Jon did lick the icing from his cheek. 

"So this is my dad's favorite movie and he watched it with us every year. Even when he was deployed my sister and I still made sure to watch it." 

"It is the best Christmas movie ever."

"That isn't a Christmas movie," Clark said from the recliner. 

"Oh hush. We'll watch yours tomorrow." 

Jon tugged Damian down onto the floor and they curled up in the blankets. He felt a strange anticipation as he waited for the movie to start. When it finally started playing, he laughed. "Die Hard?" 

"Yup. Every Christmas," Jon replied. 

He fell asleep as John McClane crawled through the air vents and woke up to the smell of something delicious. He hummed and sat up turning toward the kitchen. Jon was still asleep next to him. His back didn't like that he'd slept on the floor, but he pushed up and padded into the kitchen. He had to find that smell. That smell was muffins and an entire array of breakfast foods. Martha and Lois were moving around the kitchen. Clark was dozing off at the kitchen table. Martha noticed him first and told him to sit down that they'd have it all ready in a jiffy. Jon followed after him a few seconds later. He pressed a kiss to the top of his head as he passed him to sit down. 

"Eat, then gifts," Lois said as she sat down the plate of bacon and eggs. The muffins and pancakes came next. Then a bowl of oatmeal and some hash browns. He dug in. Jon and Clark fought each other for the last bacon slice. He stole Jon's muffin when he wasn't looking. 

"I'm never moving again," Jon said leaning back in his chair. He couldn't have agreed more, but they were both pushed into the living room. 

Jon sat by the tree. It was his turn to be Santa according to the rest of the Kents. Damian sat next to Lois on the couch. She smiled at him when he looked over to her as Jon sorted some of the presents. He didn't know why he was so excited. Jon bounced up and grabbed the stockings and shoved them into everyone's arms. They were mostly full of candy, all of Damian's were peach flavored. He looked to Jon. 

"Did you do this?" he accused. 

"Do what?" He pulled out the bag of peach rings and Jon snorted. 

"Do you not like peaches?" Martha asked. He turned to her and she looked so innocent as she smiled at him. 

"No, I do…" He looked down at his stocking and rifled through the rest. 

"Oh. Child. Give that here." Martha was laughing as she handed him her stocking and took his. "Too polite for your own good." Martha chuckled. Jon frowned at the deodorant that he pulled out of his. 

"Are you trying to tell me something?" Neither Martha or Lois were looking at Jon. 

"Wow," Jon said and held his chest. "That really hurts." Lois threw a chocolate kiss at him and told him to get on with the Santa-ing. 

The first round of presents got everyone socks. His had fruit on them and he showed Jon the bananas. Jon had food on his. 

Clark got a new watch from Jon. Looked a little misty eyed when he read the engraving, but wouldn't let anyone else see it before he strapped it on his wrist. Lois got a typewriter from Clark. It was antique and she cooed over it for three more gifts being opened. 

Martha got a new oven. Well she got a print out of a picture of the oven that would be installed in two days. She scolded Clark for splurging on it, but he ignored her and asked her what she was going to make first. 

He got a box of westerns. Jon groaned when he saw them. Clark told him that they were ones Jon had grown up watching. "That doesn't mean I liked them," Jon interjected. 

"You'll watch them with me, right?" Jon looked like he was going to refuse, but he looked at Damian and sighed. 

"I guess." 

"You got it bad," Martha teased nudging Jon. Damian set his socks in the box and set it aside. He wondered if every Christmas was like this. He looked around as The Kents continued to tease Jon. They all looked so happy. 

"This looks a little thin to be a key chain," Jon said looking at Damian when he got to his gift. 

He watched Jon read the card and the smile that grew. "Tickets?" Jon asked. 

"I wanted to let you pick where we went. There are too many places that I want to show you." 

"Tim's never going to let us leave again. You know that." 

"I might have bribed him." 

Jon laughed and tucked the tickets under his new blender. "Thanks babe." 

By the time there was only one present under the tree he could feel the tension coming off of the other three. Jon crawled across the room and handed him the box. He looked unsure, but sat back to watch Damian open it. Damian looked up at them one last time before pulling off the wrapping paper. He heard Lois hold her breath as he opened the box. There was a photo album sitting in it. He laughed at the picture of himself on the front. Jon must have taken it one morning because he was drooling into his pillow and his hair was stuck out at all ends. 

He pulled the album out and Lois took the box from him. He opened the page and froze. It was his mom. The same picture Jon had found. He flipped and there was a picture of him as an infant. He flipped through a few pages. He'd seen all of these, there were tons of pictures of him as a baby. Then stopped on one. It was a newspaper clipping with a photo. His mom stood next to a family he barely remembered. He skimmed the article it praised her work in saving the family run business and helping their tiny town to grow. There was a picture of him running on the beach opposite that. A few pages later and his dad was smiling up at him. There were a group of kids around him. He'd donated money to rebuild their orphanage. He bit his lip as he turned the page. Another picture of his dad. Hosting a charity ball. A few more pictures of himself. 

Then a picture of the three of them. It was an actual photo. Not printed from a newspaper. 

"I remember this," he said touching the photo. They'd been in Gotham. It had just been a visit his mom had said. A vacation until she found her next job. His parents were dressed up for the fundraiser his dad was throwing. But Damian had woken up sick and the nanny that was supposed to watch him didn't want to risk getting her kids sick. He'd ended up going with them, so in the picture his mom and dad were smiling at the camera and he was asleep on his dad's shoulder wearing pajamas. "Where did you find this?" he asked as he went through the rest of the pages. 

"My mom helped," Jon said. 

"Jon told me you didn't have many pictures of them so I thought I might be able to find some. I pulled every favor I could. Lucked out on a friend of mine who never throws anything away. That fundraiser was one of his first jobs." She rubbed his back. 

"Thank you," he whispered, swallowing past the emotion caught in his throat. Lois hugged him and he pulled her in tight. 

He let go after a while and found the room was empty. Lois pat his cheek. "Are you okay?" he nodded. "Okay. Jon took your gifts upstairs. We'll call you two down when lunch is ready." 

He headed upstairs, and as soon as he walked in the room Jon wrapped him up and they laid together. Damian didn't have words for how much this all meant to him. 

-

There was so much food on the counter that he wasn't sure how they were going to eat it all or how it was going to fit on the table. Martha and Clark were bickering over the main turkey. Lois was eating green beans out of the bowl as she walked it to the table. He zeroed in on the burgundy blob sitting on a plate. 

"It's shaped like a can, Jon." He grinned and pushed on the jelly with the knife. It jiggled slightly. "I'm going to make discs of jellied flavor." Jon laughed and told him to stop playing with it and cut it. Jon helped his mom move things to the table while Damian cut slices of the cranberry sauce. 

Jon stared at the tofurky. Damian watched as the Kents all stared at the slices on their plates. Clark had been the one to volunteer the whole table for trying it. He looked like he was regretting that decision. Damian couldn't stop grinning. He took a bite of his, smeared with cranberry sauce and Clark cursed under his breath before shoving half of his slice in his mouth. Jon followed after him not even bothering to hide his grimace. Lois smiled as she ate hers and stole Clark's when he looked like he was going to be sick. Martha put a bite in her mouth and spit it right back out. The whole table started laughing. 

"I'll change every recipe in my kitchen for you, but there are just some things that aren't meant to be," she said looking at Damian. 

He ate the sweet potatoes covered in marshmallow fluff with a wary glance at Jon. They were surprisingly good. He also ate half of the bowl of mashed potatoes before anyone noticed. It was late by the time they finished and moved to the living room for the 'real Christmas movie'. Clark looked proud as he put the DVD in. Damian recognized the opening music and smiled. "My mom loved It's a Wonderful Life." 

Damian shifted until he was comfortable against Jon's side. He watched the screen, but fell asleep, lured there by a full stomach and the contentedness of being surrounded by family, before the beginning scene had even ended. 

Jon shifted and Damian startled awake. He watched as the final scene began. Lois was smiling at Clark where she sat across his lap on the recliner. And as the screen filled with 'It's a Wonderful Life' Clark smiled down at Lois and said "It sure is," and kissed her. "Ain't that true, Ma?" Martha nodded, but her smile was wobbly. 

"My grandpa used to do that every year," Jon whispered. 

They all started to get ready for bed. Damian hugged Martha and thanked her for welcoming him to her family. She hugged him tightly back and said he couldn’t escape them now. He knew too much. 

Jon got his hair ruffled and pushed toward the stairs by his dad. Damian followed after him with a wave toward his in-laws. 

-

Damian showered first, their flight was in the afternoon, but Clark was driving them up to Kansas City so they had to leave early. 

"I wish we could have stayed longer," Damian offered while Jon sorted his clothes out. Jon looked over to him and shrugged. There was something bothering him. His entire face was shouting 'I'm upset.' but before he could ask Jon was grabbing his pajamas and heading down the hall to the bathroom. 

When he got back Damian was reading one of the create your own adventure novels he'd found on Jon's bookshelf.

Jon tossed his clothes in his bag and started putting the rest of his things away. The Kents were going to mail them their gifts so they didn't have to fit them in their luggage. He had his photo album in his carry on. 

Jon picked up his tickets and stared at them for a few minutes. Damian picked an option and when he turned the page he realized he'd made a fatal error and his character died. 

"It does bother you. Doesn't it?" Jon's voice was gravel laced with venom. He didn't think he'd ever heard him sound angry like that before. 

"Huh?" he asked putting the book down. He hadn't been going back to the page before to choose the other option. 

"That I've never been anywhere. That's why you gave me the tickets?" He threw them on the bed and pointed at them as if the reason for why Jon was so upset was printed on them. 

"What?" 

"Yeah. I'm just some hick from a small town. So you have to take me on these trips so I'm not so quite so boring." 

"That's not- I wanted to show you-" 

"How interesting you are?" Jon interrupted. 

"Stop that. You're not boring. Why are you so mad right now?" 

"I'm mad because I'm stupid." Jon's eyes flicked to Damian then away. They looked hurt more than anything else. 

"What?" 

"I'm not some fancy world traveler like  _ Luca _ . I don't know why I thought I stood a chance."

"What does he have to do with any of this?" 

"You-" Jon stopped and took a breath. "It doesn't matter. It's not like this," he waved between them, "is even real." Damian froze. Jon sighed. "I'm going to sleep downstairs." 

He stared as Jon pulled the door shut, he barely caught it before it slammed. He grabbed the tickets and stared at them. He'd just wanted to share the places he'd grown up like Jon had shared Smallville. 

\---

The drive to the airport was quiet, but it was early enough that his father didn't seem to think it was weird. Jon was exhausted. He hadn't slept at all the night before, thinking about a million things. Wondering why he had just exploded like that, waiting for Damian to come down and talk to him, wondering if he should go up and talk to Damian, wondering if they could get passed this. He had given up on sleep as the sun came up and made breakfast, throwing on a smile for his parents that made him feel gross. But they didn't seem to catch on as they packed them up and sent them off. 

Jon let his head fall onto Damian's shoulder, the long night alone and upset making him feel weak with need for him. Damian shifted his shoulder down so that Jon would be more comfortable and his chest ached with guilt and sadness as he let his eyes close. 

"You boys let us know when you make it home," his father said when he dropped them outside of the gate. "You know how your mother worries." Clark reminded Jon with a pat to his cheek as Damian pulled their bags up to the checkpoint to get in line. Clark looked over at Damian and then back at his son and frowned. "You okay kiddo? Been a little quiet this morning." 

Jon held down the little bubble of hysteria that wanted to work it's way up his throat. He wanted to tell him why he wasn't but he didn't know how without causing a scene in the middle of the airport. So he just shook his head. "It's just hard to go back to Gotham sometimes," he told him which wasn't a total lie. "I miss you guys. I miss home." He looked around at all the smiling faces. 

Clark hugged him again and gave him a good squeeze this time. "We'll see you sooner than you think," he promised and they said goodbye before he went to join Damian in the security line. 

They did not talk at all, getting through security quickly and finding seats. Damian put in his headphones and Jon bought a book at the airport store and they sat there not addressing the issue until the plane boarded. Damian tapped his foot nervously as the plane filled and turned on, squeezing his eyes shut as it pulled from the port to the runway. Jon took his hand and Damian's foot stopped moving. He opened his eyes and frowned at Jon, a little gleam of something else there. But regardless of Jon's feelings he couldn't watch Damian suffer through a plane ride. "Maybe we should trade the tickets for a cruise," he mused, trying to shove down the angry hurt monster inside of him. "Or do you get sea sick?" 

Damian gripped tightly on his hand as the plane started moving faster. "I don't think I've ever been on a cruise." He shut his eyes again. 

"My grandpa won one on some radio show when I was a kid. He said it was horrible. The food was bad and the excursions are expensive. And they force cheerfulness in you all hours of the day no peace to it. But at least you wouldn't have to fly." They were in the air by the time he finished his story and Damian was watching him. 

And the sour turn in his stomach was back. Jon took his hand back and gave Damian a pressed smile before he went back to his book and it was like the silence had never been broken. 

-

The ride from the airport was worse. Their driver was talkative and neither of them were in a chatty mood. They answered his questions monosyllabically and he stopped trying about ten minutes from their place. Damian paid the driver and Jon went around the back to grab their bags and it was back to stoney silence on the elevator. 

Damian took their bags to the room and Jon headed for the kitchen. Looking through their fridge to see what he should cook for dinner. He settled on a prepackaged stir fry since it was easy and he didn't have to think about it. 

He knew that they couldn't go one like this, in complete silence until everything just washed away and they were fine. That wasn't how relationships worked. But was this even a relationship? It felt like one. Jon was in love with Damian. It was why he couldn't bear to watch him struggle on the plane even with the image of Luca pressed against him embedded in his brain. Jon knew that regardless of what this had started out as, his feelings at least had changed into something real. But how did Damian feel about that? Did Damian love him? He had said it once the day before the wedding and once when he let Jon take care of him on his sick day-- but then he had also been with Luca. The whole thought process tumbled over again and over again in his mind. 

But maybe that was the point. Damian was pretending. He was being nice to Jon because Jon had agreed to marry him. He had done Damian a favor and now Damian was reciprocating that by pretending for his benefit. Maybe Jon had been an idiot for fooling himself into thinking they could have more than this. 

"Jon?" He jumped a little and turned back to Damian who was frowning at him, one hand on his shoulder. Something smelled wrong and when he looked down at the pan he saw that he had burned the cabbage. 

"Shoot." He groaned pulling it off of the burner and put the ruined mush into the sink. He turned on the water and watched it run their ruined dinner into the disposal, running a hand through his hair. His heart was pounding in his chest and he wanted to cry and scream and laugh all at the same time. But he didn't. Instead he pulled another bag out of the fridge and pulled out a new pan, letting the oil heat up before he started again. 

He could feel Damian watching him, heat crawling up his neck with each passing moment until he spoke again. "Jon, are you-"

"Don't," Jon snapped at him and ripped open the bag with his teeth. "Just don't try to make me feel better, okay?"

"Fine," Damian snapped back. "You haven't even told me why you are mad."

Jon turned on him, the wooden spoon clenched in his fists. "Do I really have to? Have you seriously not figured any of this out yet?" 

"How can I figure it out if you won't talk to me?!" Damian shouted at him and Jon blinked in surprise, taking a step back. He had seen Damian angry hundreds of times. He had calmed him down and taken the lashes for others, but he had never heard him yell before. At anyone. "I'm not a fucking mind reader! If I did something you have to tell me."

Jon bit his lip and stared at the floor between them. He wanted to tell him what he saw and have Damian tell him it was a misunderstanding. But what if it wasn't? Could Jon take that? "I can't," he finally muttered. 

"Why not?" Damian demanded, his manager face taking over as he crossed his arms. 

"Because I can't," Jon said again and turned back to the vegetables that he half stirred half beat into submission. "Because I… I love you and I don't want-"

Damian pulled him away from the stove and cranked off the burner, backing Jon into the sink as he kissed him hard enough to knock the air out of him. "You are infuriating," Damian growled into his mouth. 

Jon grunted and pulled him off the floor, turning them so that he could sit him on the counter. "I'm still mad at you," Jon gasped as he pulled apart Damian's buttons. 

"Fine," Damian hissed. 

They reconnected as he pulled off Damian's shirt. They stripped until there was nothing but underwear in between them and finally pulled apart enough for Damian to gasp, "Not in here." Jon nodded his brain already shut off and pulled Damian off of the counter, leading him to the bed room. 

They stopped a few places along the way, taking advantage of corners until they finally reached the door and stumbled in. It was about as opposite from how their first time as it could possibly be. There was love there sure, but the anger and frustration made them a tangle of moving limbs with no sense of reason. They moved into each other and around each other and after a few rough thrusts Jon was unable to keep it up. He kissed every part of Damian that he could reach willing him without words to forgive him. To  _ choose _ him. Damian's eyes softened and he groaned when Jon grazed over his prostate in a slow pull over and over again. He didn't know how long it took, how long they used each other but when they finished they lay on their sides, staring wordlessly into each other until they fell asleep. 

-

Jon's alarm went off too early and he groaned as he reached to shut it off. His phone told him that it was four thirty. Tim would be downstairs with the car in an hour and he still hadn't packed. 

He removed himself carefully from where Damian had wrapped himself around him in the night and turned on the shower. He looked at himself for a long time in the mirror wondering if he could see the difference, if anything had changed the night before now that he had finally admitted that he was in love- but he looked exactly the same. He showered quickly and got dressed in jeans and one of Damian's sweaters that he'd worn in Smallville. It still smelled like him and calmed his nerves as he wet a towel with warm water and went over to the bed. Damian frown in his sleep when Jon pulled the blankets back and wiped his stomach, cleaning him from where they hadn't moved the night before. Then he packed his bag as quietly as he could. 

He set the coffee maker and went to brush his teeth when he noticed that Damian was awake and watching him from the bed. He went and sat down next to him. 

"Hey," Jon said almost soft enough to be a whisper. The early morning making him feel like he was in a fragile glass bubble that he didn't want to break and reveal that they hadn't worked a single thing out the night before. 

"Hey." Damian frowned at him. He looked him over and then to the suitcase at the door and sat up. "Where are you going?" Fear sparked in his eyes. 

"To London with Tim," he told him, easing the fear out of him with one hand on his neck. He hated that he looked like that. That he thought that Jon would leave-- but after all, was it not Jon who reminded him how breakable all of this was? "I'll be gone for three days. I meant to tell you but…" he trailed off and Damian stayed sitting up staring at him. 

"I don't want you to go," he said finally in a small voice, "Not like this."

"I don't either," Jon admitted. He felt exhausted even though he slept hard after their fight. "We need to talk when I get back." Damian nodded ran his knuckles over Jon's cheek. It almost broke him but his phone buzzed telling him Tim was almost there. He grabbed the hand on his cheek and kissed it, "I love you." His voice wobbled a little as he said it and he got up, not letting himself look back as he grabbed his bag and met Tim outside their building. 

-

Tim was easy to travel with. He was quiet and confident, letting Jon retreat into his mind and relax as they boarded the plane. He fell asleep almost instantly, and thankfully it was dreamless. He woke up feeling a little better then when he left and when he turned his phone back on he saw a new message from Damian and frowned. 

**DAG:** Let me know when you land.

Jon stared at it until Tim startled him. "You okay?" He tried to mask his jump as reaching up to adjust the air. 

"Y-yeah, great," he said hoping that the cheesiness wasn't as fake as it sounded. "Just excited for this meeting."

-

It went well. It turned out that Tim was friends with the CEO of the development company they went to and watching them haggle over prices was like watching two friends reconnect over a beer. She did take them out after to a small pub in front of the Eye that was surprisingly uncrowded. She cooed over how cute Jon was and told him stories about Tim in college and by the time she dropped them at the hotel get some sleep they were all feeling pretty toasty. 

Jon stared at his text box. He'd texted Damian when he landed but that was it. Neither of them had said anything else. He wanted more than anything to call him, tell him about his day and how the meeting had gone. But part of him really didn't want to know what it would mean if he didn't answer. He didn't want to hear another voice around him. So he just stared at the text box not writing anything until he fell asleep. 

His phone was dead when he woke up the next day, but he didn't have time to charge it. Beryl was waiting for them in a car out front for a tour of the production line. 

He didn't get to charge his phone until they got to another pub that evening and he sat by the wall. He watched the little green bar waiting for it to have enough juice to turn on. He was so distracted that he didn't notice Tim staring at him. "Trouble in paradise?" 

Jon blinked up at him. "What?" 

Tim shrugged waving at the waitress for another pitcher of beer. "You've been staring at your dead phone all night, and looked like you were trying to remember all of Hamlet when Damian texted you on the plane." Jon frowned at him. He had no idea that Tim had been watching him so closely. "It just seems odd. You were so happy before Christmas. Did something happen?" 

And Jon didn't know why he said it, but he finished the half pint of beer in front of him and told Tim, "I saw Damian and Luca kissing."

Tim, who had been mid drink, dribbled beer down his chin and coughed out, "What the fuck?" 

"But it's fine." Jon groaned holding his head in his hands. "It's not like this really matters." 

"Like fuck it doesn't." When Jon looked up Tim was on the phone and Jon's heart jumped into his throat. 

"What are you doing?" He demanded. 

"I'm calling Jason," he told him like it was obvious, refilling Jon's beer. "I'm going to have him go to your apartment and murder your husband."

Jon lunged for the phone but Tim got out of the chair and stepped away from him letting Jon chase after him before he was holding him back with both of his legs. He could hear Jason say hello and panic ran through him. "Tim, if you are my friend you'll hang now."

"That's exactly why I am  _ not _ hanging up." He hissed at him and then uncovered the receiver. "Hey babe," he cooed at the probably sleeping Jason. "I need you to do me a favor and-"

"My marriage is fake!" Jon shouted and everyone in the pub stopped to stare at them. 

Tim stared at him slack jawed and dropped his foot. Jason said something in the other end and Tim muttered, "Never mind, I have to go." 

He watched Jon all the way back to the table and Jon sat down meekly across from him. Neither of them spoke again until they had finished their refiled glasses. 

"Okay," Tim nodded. "I'm not going to lie, a green card marriage was definitely the first thing that crossed my mind when Damian came to me with this." Jon nodded. That was fair. "But you… just seemed so…" he shook his head. 

Jon closed his eyes and put his head back in his hands. "We are. Or… I guess I am. And I knew this was a horrible idea going in, but I always liked Damian and there he was asking me to help him and he  _ never _ asks for help and I just couldn't…" he trailed off and when he looked up, Tim didn't look the least bit angry. He actually looked kind of sad. "And I love him," Jon said simply. "And I know that none of this is real, and that he probably doesn't feel the same way-- but I really thought that he did. And then Luca… and I can't even be mad because we aren't really married."

"But you are really married."

Jon rolled his eyes, "I mean yes technically, but-" 

"No, no but!" Tim told him. "You and Damian got married. In front of your family and friends you got married. If Damian really just wanted a green card, do you think he would have spent all that time and money on… like the most beautiful wedding I've ever seen?"

Jon's face was red and his throat felt tight. "Well… with my family-" 

"He wanted your family to like him. He wanted them to see that he was going to take good care of you. Christ, you wrote your own vows. Who fucking does that for a greencard?" Jon didn't know what to say. "Look, Jon I dont know what happened with Luca, I don't. But I also know that Damian has been crazy about you for years. He refused to take any interviews after you for an assistant. And I can't tell you how many times I have caught him watching you through the door of his office." Jon could feel his heart sinking back into his chest and Tim took his hand. "Damian loves you. You love him. If that's not a real marriage then I don't know what is."

\---

Damian couldn't fall back to sleep. Every time he closed his eyes he heard Jon tell him that he loved him. Jon had said the words before. He'd whispered them during moments when Damian had needed to hear them the most, moments when he had let himself believe that Jon meant them. But as he stared out the window looking over the city he couldn't help but think that this last time was different. They felt heavy, wrong. It felt like he was saying goodbye. He tossed and turned for a few hours before giving up and getting out of bed. He texted Jon when he was done with his shower even though he knew that he'd still be in the air. He reached out because he couldn't help but feel like he was losing Jon already. It had only been two months. Two months and already he'd done something to drive Jon away. 

He unpacked. He washed all of the clothes they'd taken with them to Kansas along with the few dirty clothes they'd left in the hamper. He'd stared at the bed when he'd finished. He knew it needed to be washed, but he could still smell Jon's shampoo on it. He gave in and washed the sheets but left the pillows sitting on the bare bed. He stood in the middle of their apartment. Staring at the photos on the wall. Fake. The lives interwoven on the shelves. Fake. The memories breathed into the room. Fake. 

He knew. He knew it was. But he'd thought. Hoped. Let himself believe that it was real. It had felt real. He had looked at Jon and had been happy that he was his husband. He'd thought that Jon had felt the same. Had he been wrong this entire time? Had Jon been going along with it all because he thought he should? 

He was startled out of his thoughts by a knock at the door. 

The same redheaded man stood on the other side. He looked unimpressed with the fact that he was still in lounge pants and an oversized shirt that didn't belong to him. 

"Mr. Al Ghul. Could I come in?" He nodded and stepped back. 

"Jon's not here," Damian offered as he shut the door. 

"Oh?" 

"He's in London on a business trip." 

"I see," the man said and Damian's stomach twisted as he wrote something down on his pad. "How was your holiday? Did you do anything?" 

"It was nice. We spent a few days in Smallville with the Kents." He made a face when he remembered how that had ended. 

"Not something you wanted to do?" 

"What?" He looked at the man who was watching him. "No. I- I love Jon's family. His grandma drove three hours to get me a tofurky. It was as bad as the face you just made," he said with a laugh. "But they all tried it. And they showed me their traditions, made me feel like I was part of the family." 

"You sound surprised." 

"It's been a while since I've had a family." He looked at the man and felt the words coming. His worry from the last few days compounding on the stress he'd carried for the last three months. "Jon is angry with me. He's in London. Angry. And I don't know why. You're writing all of these notes about our marriage and it's falling apart. I don't want to lose the family I just got. But even if you don't send me a way I feel like I'm losing it anyway. All because I bought him plane tickets."

The man looked at him for a long time then asked "Why do you think that he's angry?" as simply as he'd asked any of his other questions. 

"I don't know! Our Christmas was great then he threw the gift I gave him at me and started yelling at me about my assistant and spouting some idiotic things about him being boring. He's not  _ boring _ ."

"Tell me about your assistant." 

"What?" 

"What does he look like?" the man asked looking bored. 

"He's an inch shorter than Jon. Blond. He has this stupid ponytail thing."

"What does Jon say about him?" 

"Nothing? He told me that he was objectively attractive once," he added the conversation with JJ popping into his head. "And Jon has commented on the fact that he's traveled as much as I have." Another note was written down. 

"Jon used to be your assistant right?" 

"Yes. You know that." 

"You spent a lot of time working together. You started dating. You fell in love?" He nodded. "Now you have a new assistant. Who is  _ objectively _ attractive. Who you have been spending time with. Who has things in common with you." His hands balled into fists. He knew what he was implying. Knew how wrong it felt. Knew that anger too well. 

"I would never." 

The man looked at him for a long time then smiled. It was the first time he'd seen him smile. "I actually came by to let you know that I'm closing your case. Your coworkers had nothing but positive things to say about your relationship."

"But-" he looked around at the empty room. "We're-" 

"Fighting. Like you do in marriages." He clicked his pen and put it in his pocket. "My advice? Talk to him." The man pat his shoulder. "And have a good New Year."

-

He wanted to call Jon and tell him, but he hadn't heard anything beyond his safe landing. So he sat in the silence of the apartment and wondered what that meant for them. They didn't have to pretend anymore. 

He ran on the treadmill for a few hours trying to distract himself, but all he could focus on was replaying the last few weeks and Jon's words. 

He made dinner and washed his plate, before drying and putting it away. 

He took a shower and stared at the freshly made bed. He grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch as he headed for the theater. Two movies later and he was no closer to falling asleep. He grabbed a hoodie and pulled on a pair of tennis shoes and headed out. 

The security guard looked surprised when he knocked on the door. He had a key card that would let him in, but didn't want to startle the man. He watched him walk across the darkened lobby and open the door. 

"Mr. Wayne? Is there a problem?" 

"No. Just here to get some work done." The man moved to follow him to the elevator, but he held up his key card. "I've got it from here." The man nodded and went back to his desk and it's bank of monitors. Damian swiped the card and the elevator doors opened with a cheerful chime. He watched the numbers and tried to ignore his reflection and the tired look in his eyes. 

It was strange walking through the offices. They were never this quiet. Even late at night there was the distant hum of a vacuum or the faint sounds of someone talking in an office. He sat at his desk and stared at the post it note stuck to the corner of his monitor. He shook his head and logged on. His eyes kept drifting to the note. 

He heard footsteps and focused on the screen in front of him. He'd been spacing out thinking about how they could have gone so wrong so fast. 

"You know you're off for the next week right?" He nodded, but didn't look up from his computer as Jason sat down across from him. "I'd just gotten back to sleep when I got a call from security that you had come in. Normally I'd have ignored it, but after the call I got a couple hours ago I figured I'd check on you. So, what's going on?" 

"Nothing. Just trying to get things ready for the new year." 

"Right. So you didn't make out with your assistant and now you're on the outs with your husband?" 

"What?" he asked finally looking at Jason. He had his hair tied up in a single pony tail on the top of his head and was wearing a shirt that was just a Pikachu face. He looked ridiculous. Like the question he'd just asked. "No." 

"So Jon's not mad at you?" Jason asked. 

"No I didn't-- is that why Jon is mad at me?" 

"Yeah." Jason looked at him like he was crazy. "You know it's not okay to do that right? Unless of course you talk about it, but from the call Tim gave me Jon is not cool with it." 

"I didn't make out with anyone. Why is everyone accusing me of cheating on Jon?" 

"Everyone? Who else-" 

"Apparently you and I fucked."

"What?" Jason asked his voice cracking in the middle. 

"Yup. In China." Jason shook his head and looked horrified. Damian shrugged. He'd felt the same way when he'd heard it the first time. "Luca had a lot to say about my relationship with Jon after I told him that I wasn't interested in helping him move up in the company. According to him, that's the only reason why Jon was with me." 

"You don't believe that." 

"I don't know. Seeing as I moved up by sleeping with you." He rolled his eyes.

"Stop saying that," Jason whispered. 

"Even after insulting my in-laws, calling my marriage a sham, and accusing me of not earning my position, he tried to kiss me. As soon as he touched me I broke his wrist." 

Jason barked out a surprised laugh. "What? Really?" 

"Does Jon really think that I kissed Luca?" 

"Yeah. He said he saw the two of you. He's pretty upset about it." 

"Why didn't he tell me?" 

"Because it fucking sucks to get cheated on?" 

"I  _ didn't _ cheat on him. I  _ wouldn't. _ " 

"He doesn't know that." 

"He should!" 

Jason didn't say anything. Damian stood up and the idea that had been fluttering around in his head for the last few hours solidified. 

-

Damian wished he'd thought to get a heavier jacket. As he stood outside waiting on a taxi, snow started to collect on the ground. When he slid into the back of the taxi he recited the address that had appeared on his phone when he'd turned it back on. He sent a thank you in response. The driver asked him a few questions, but they fell into silence after a few minutes. Damian spent the time thinking. 

The elevator dinged and his heart beat heavy in his chest as the door opened. He double checked the room number before taking a deep breath and knocking. There were a few beats of silence. Then the door opened. 

"Damian?" Jon looked soft in his pajamas. He looked shocked, but not unhappy to see him. Damian wanted to wrap around him and breathe, but he held back. He had things he needed to say first. "How are you-- did you  _ fly _ ?" 

"I'm sorry." He blurted. "I vowed that I would fight for you, but I have been a coward. And you got hurt because of it." He reached out and caught Jon's fingers, relieved when he didn't pull away. "You are everything to me." 

Jon's eyes went wide and he seemed to realize that they were standing in the hallway. He pulled Damian in and shut the door. He looked at Jon faint in the sliver of light from the bathroom.

"I love you." He squeezed Jon's fingers. "And I don't want our marriage to have an expiration date. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to spend every holiday in Smallville. I want to show you where I grew up.  _ That's _ why I bought you the tickets. You've given so much of yourself to me and I wanted to give you something back. I never wanted you to feel like you weren't enough." His voice cracked. "You've always been," he swallowed, "everything I could ever want." 

Jon wiped a thumb across his cheek. Then he kissed his cheek. Then again. Damian leaned up and Jon kissed him. Held him close and kissed him like he was afraid to let him go. "I love you," Damian whispered between kisses. "I love you," he said as Jon backed him toward the bed. "I love you," he repeated for every time that he'd held back. Every time that he'd let his fear hold him back. Their words twined together as they did. Jon's voice echoing the sentiment back to him. 

\- 

"I can't believe you flew. I was going to be home tomorrow," Jon said swiping at a strand of hair on Damian's forehead. 

"I had to tell you my list of demands," he said with a smile. Jon rolled his eyes. "And I didn't like knowing that you thought I'd betrayed you." Jon frowned. "I didn't kiss him. Jason told me that you saw us? Luca tried, but I stopped him. Why would I want anyone else when I had you?" 

Jon stared at him for a few moments then swallowed and asked, "Why didn't you tell me?" 

"Nothing happened. And when I saw you, you were already in an odd mood. I didn't want to make it worse. I wanted to enjoy our first Christmas together," he offered up a half-hearted smile. 

"I thought I'd seen you two."

"I know and I'm sorry. I fired him."

Jon's head shot up. "Really?" 

"Don't sound so surprised." He leaned over and kissed Jon. "He was incredibly unprofessional. And he never got my coffee right."

Jon scoffed. 

"That's another thing on my list of demands. I only want coffee from you. Maybe with a few more post it notes."

"I guess I can agree to that," Jon said like it was a huge chore.

"I want to adopt that ugly dog you keep staring at when you think I'm not looking." 

Jon grinned. "He's not ugly. He's just grumpy. He actually reminds me of you." He poked Jon and rolled onto his side. 

"I want you to sleep with me every night. You've broken me. I can't fall asleep when you're not there." He got pulled closer as Jon agreed. "And you can say no. But," he hesitated and met Jon's eyes. "I want you to be Mr. Al Ghul every day, not just some." 

Jon's smile was blinding as he nodded and kissed him. "Okay." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have story requests, questions or just want to say hello-- follow DNA and I on twitter at [@PBrubbs](https://twitter.com/PBrubbs) and [@Dnawhite51](https://twitter.com/Dnawhite51) and see the process of our day to day writing frustrations.


	12. Epilogue

Damian smiled at Jon. He was in a dark red suit and had been eyeing Damian in his own as they faced each other. He grinned when a faint blush rose on Jon's cheeks when their eyes met and Damian quirked an eyebrow at him. His attention was pulled away as Brown's voice cut in. 

"You are  _ finally _ husbands," she announced. "Well, what are you waiting for? Kiss already." 

Damian looked over to the couple in front of him. Tim smiled, bigger than he'd ever seen before and pulled Jason down by his tie into a kiss. The small crowd gathered before them cheered. When they pulled away they didn't stray too far. Jason kissed Tim's hair and whispered "I love you." Damian looked over to Jon. He looked like he was about to cry. He'd looked close to tears at the rehearsal dinner the day before and had cried during each of their vows. After a second Jason turned and held up their hands to show off the ring on Tim's finger. "He's mine now." A few of the people in the crowd laughed and Tim pulled their hands down and they started down the aisle. He held out his arm to Jon who took it with a smile. 

"Our wedding was better," he whispered to Jon as they followed the grooms' footsteps. 

"Damian," Jon admonished. 

"Do you disagree?"

"No. But it's rude." Jon grinned at him. He leaned up to kiss his cheek. 

He watched Jon dance with Brown. Jason sat down next to him. He looked over and then behind him where Tim was nodding along as an elderly woman talked to him. "His grandmother has been giving us advice for the last twenty minutes." 

"Advice about what?" 

"How to be married? I don't know. We've been together for twelve years. I think we know what we're doing."

"Thirteen." Tim looked unimpressed as Jason smiled up at him. "I just got a lecture for letting you run off." 

"Damian looked so lonely." Tim looked over to Damian who was watching them with a bemused smile. 

"Yes. He looks devastated." 

"Some best man you are," Jason grumbled. He pulled Tim down into his lap and the frown faded, even though Tim was trying his hardest to keep it there. "Why aren't you out there dancing with  _ your _ husband?" 

Tim's frown was completely gone when he looked over to them. "Brown stole him away. I am plotting my revenge." Jon caught his eyes and waved as Brown dipped him. He waved back an answering smile on his face as he heard Jon's laugh broke out. 

"Ugh. Let's never be an old married couple like them," Jason said wrapping his arms tighter around Tim. 

"You're older than us," Damian said, but they ignored him. 

"I mean buying a house? With a yard. And a fence. Ghastly," Tim mocked. 

Jon kissed Brown on the cheek and headed over to him. He looked over to the two who were still mocking him. 

"All they are missing are the 2.5 kids," Jason joked. 

"Not for long," he muttered smiling at their shocked faces and he stood to meet Jon in the middle. 

"You told them didn't you?" Jon said frowning at him. He looked over his shoulder to Jason and Tim who were staring at them completely gobsmacked. "We were going to wait. And tell them  _ together _ ."

"Well," Damian said drawing out the word as he tried to think of an excuse that wasn't 'they were making fun of us'. 

"It's okay," Jon said the irritated face dropping off immediately. "I told my mom yesterday on accident." 

"What?" 

"You guys okay?" Jon asked Tim and Jason dodging his question. 

"Kids?" Jason asked. 

"One of them," Jon answered. "A little girl." 

Damian pulled out his phone and showed them pictures of their soon to be daughter. He smiled at Jon when he caught him watching him. They talked for a while about her and Damian couldn't stop smiling. 

"I want one," Jason said. 

Tim looked over to him. "What?"

"I want one. Let's go make one." 

"It doesn't work like that," Tim said with a laugh as Jason pulled him away. 

"We're just not trying hard enough, husband."

Jason picked Tim up and carried him over his shoulder out of the tent. Tim's laughter echoed after them. 

Damian leaned up to kiss Jon, but before their lips met he pulled back. "You told your mom?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have story requests, questions or just want to say hello-- follow DNA and I on twitter at [@PBrubbs](https://twitter.com/PBrubbs) and [@Dnawhite51](https://twitter.com/Dnawhite51) and see the process of our day to day writing frustrations.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again and welcome back to the Summer of Super! This is the time of year were DNA and I get a little crazy about everyone's favorite super sons and try to find a thousand different ways to hurt them and put them back together again. Jon and Damian are some of our favorite characters to write, and while this is not the last story to come out of the summer of super, it is the only one we have finished so far. 
> 
> This fic is named after the song [First Day of MY Life](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xUBYzpCNQ1I) by Bright Eyes. If you gaven't heard that song, please click the link and enjoy. Or if you've heard it a thousand times, check out this awesome [cover](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hdj2X22jI7Y) by Jesse Daniel Smith and enjoy that instead. 
> 
> We had an absolute blast writing this fic, and it really hits me in the feels. It started out as something fun and silly and them became this much deeper thing that it kind of hard to explain. Whatever it ends up being to you, we hope that you enjoy it! 
> 
> -Prubbs and DNA
> 
> P.S. If you love our Jon/Dami and just cannot wait until next week, you are in luck. This is the second year we are celebrating the Summer of Super, and you can find our other super sons fic, [ The Rest of My Days](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15695988) already completed by following the link.


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